


Welcome to Cloverdale

by Shenandoah_Risu



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Bondage, Cloverdale AU, F/M, Kink, mention of non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 03:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 63,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shenandoah_Risu/pseuds/Shenandoah_Risu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Every journey is a series of discoveries about who you have been, who you are now and who you want to be in the future."</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When paramedic Tamara Johansen answers a call about a young groom who passed out at the tailor's before his wedding she has no idea she will meet her soulmate later that day. But the man of her dreams comes with more emotional baggage than she can imagine, and when a debilitating injury nearly kills him she finds herself at a crossroads in her own life as well. The journey will be long and difficult as the road to recovery is fraught with peril. And in order to help him with his travels she will go places she's never dared to go before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to Cloverdale

**Author's Note:**

> **Author’s Notes:** written for the LJ Comm **Journeystory** Big!Bang. In the Stargate Universe episode "Cloverdale" (SGU 2-05) Matthew Scott is infected by an alien organism. He hallucinates a different life where his commanding officer Everett Young is his father and First Lieutenant Tamara Johansen is a paramedic who revives him after a fainting spell on his wedding day. The story picks up in the Alternate Universe in Cloverdale immediately after the end of the episode.
> 
> This story is dedicated to the special man in my life who also made an incredibly difficult journey from horrible abuse to the point where he wants to help others in the same predicament. You're an inspiration to me every day, and I can't thank you enough.
> 
> Thanks to my betas and medical advisors, especially Dr. RS, brainsurgeon, for letting me, well, pick his brain, and Dr. MJP for the speech/ stutter coaching. Many thanks to **kimmy4eytj** for her support and to **nickygabriel** for organizing this Big!Bang. And most of all, thanks to the wonderful actors of Stargate Universe who have made those characters so real for me.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own SGU. I wouldn't know what to do with it. Now, Young... Young I'd know what to do with...
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feedback = Love.

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**Welcome to Cloverdale**

It was sex at first sight.

Tamara has heard about things like that happening to other people but never expected to live through it herself – especially not with a man who could be her father. And at his son’s wedding to boot!

She enters the community hall with a little bit of trepidation; still wearing her paramedic’s uniform she feels distinctly out of place among the smartly dressed people, all the taffeta, silk and satin. But she’s promised Matthew Scott, the young man she has treated earlier in the day when he had passed out at the tailor’s that she would stop by after her shift and help him celebrate – if he made it that far.

Typical case of the groom’s jitters, she thinks to herself – it’s not the first time she’s seen it. And in the past few years she’s tended to a rather large number of unconscious grooms-to-be – and, incidentally, not a single bride…

She places her med kit next to the coat rack by the door and drapes her jacket over it. Scanning the crowd she spots Matthew Scott at just about the same time he sees her, and he waves frantically in her direction. She waves back and begins to weave her way through the celebratory throngs, as best man Ronald Greer catches up with her halfway and offers her his arm.

“Matt, I present to you Ms –“ he glances at her name tag – “Tamara Johansen. The woman who saved your sorry ass with a bottle of Gatorade earlier today.”

Matthew’s face splits into a happy grin. “Hey, I’m so glad you came! I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to make it!” He hugs her and she shakes his hand.

“Congratulations! I see you survived the ordeal?”

“Yeah… nearly tossed my cookies in the soup, though… My dad had to talk some sense into me.”

“I brought my kit,” she holds up her hand, “If you want I can check you over real quick. Need another Gatorade?”

“And here we have the lovely heroic paramedic Ms Johansen, who only hours before wrestled the exceedingly lucky groom back from the brink of certain death,” comes Eli’s voice from behind her, and she turns around to wave at the camera. Eli kisses her on the cheek, and somehow she feels as if she has known these people all her life.

“Chloe,” Matthew yells at the top of his lungs. “Chloe, come meet the woman without whom I’d still be on the floor at the tailor’s!”

Chloe looks stunning in the strapless dress with a long train – she’s a beautiful young woman, Tamara admits, and it’s obvious how much in love she and Matthew are. Chloe’s face lights up as she gets closer, and then she trips over her dress, as Tamara catches her with lightning-quick reflexes. Everyone laughs.

“And once again, Paramedic Johansen saves the day,” comes Eli’s Kiefer Sutherland voice.

“Thanks for checking on Matt today,” Chloe gushes. “He’s such a chicken sometimes.”

“No problem,” Tamara assures her. “It’s a guy thing. Your husband is perfectly normal – congratulations to you both!”

“Well, now – are you off work for today or do you have to rush back,” Ronald pipes up.

Tamara laughs. “Oh no, I’m done for the day. My colleague dropped me off – I tell you, pulling up in an ambulance outside a wedding party will get you some curious stares.”

“Matt’s dad has organized a whole army of designated drivers to take people home after the party, so don’t you worry none, ma’m. We’ll make sure you can just enjoy yourself. Where _is_ your dad, Matt?”

Matt cranes his neck, then bellows into the crowd.

“Dad! Hey dad, come meet the hero of the day!” He gestures frantically.

And it’s then that she sees him for the first time.

It hits her like a baseball bat to the stomach, because she knows – _she knows_ – she’s met him before: big smile, hazel eyes twinkling with pride and happiness, an otherwise unremarkable but handsome man in his early forties with curly brown hair, an inch or two shorter than herself.

Time slows down and stands still as their eyes meet, and she sees the shock of recognition in him as well, a déjà-vu moment so powerful she has to catch her breath.

As he approaches she also knows with absolute certainty that she’s never seen him before. And yet, there is something that connects them, and her heart speeds up.

“Dad, this is Tamara Johansen – the paramedic who revived me at the tailor’s,” Matt ushers him closer.

He spreads his arms, laughing.

“Fantastic – thank you so much for coming! Matt told me all about his attack of the nerves – you should have seen him out back a few hours ago – I sure wish you’d been there!” He holds out his hand. “Everett Young. I’m so glad you could make it.”

And as she extends her hand he lifts it gallantly and kisses the back of her fingers. Her breath hitches just a little bit at his gesture.

“Oh, Matt, look, it’s the Rileys,” Chloe squeals. “Excuse us, Ms Johansen. Come on, Matt!”

Tamara laughs. “It’s Tamara, please. Or TJ.” And as the newlyweds mosey on she suddenly finds herself standing alone with him. He smiles at her, deep in thought, then catches himself.

“Are you off duty? Would you like some champagne?”

“I am. A drink would be lovely, thanks,” she nods.

“Champagne it is. This way, Ms Johansen.”

“Tamara, please.”

“Tamara. Call me Everett.”

“All right. Everett.”

He offers her his arm and she hooks in, and he leads her to the table with the wedding cake, where a waiter pours them both a glass of the bubbly.

“To Matthew and Chloe,” she raises her glass. He clinks his glass against hers, and they both take a sip.

“Oh, that’s good,” she sighs.

“Only the best for Matt,” Everett says, his face more serious. She suddenly notices he’s not wearing a ring and bites down the question about Matthew’s mother but he seems to have read her mind.

“Matt’s parents died when he was three years old,” he says with a sad smile, surprising her completely. “I adopted him shortly thereafter, since his dad had been my best friend.”

“I was wondering about the difference in names,” she nods. “I thought maybe his mother…”

Everett looks down and she quickly changes the subject. “You said he was feeling faint again earlier?”

He gulps the rest of his champagne. “Yeah… groom’s nerves, I think. I remember I had jello knees, too, when I…” He clears his throat and smiles apologetically. “More champagne?”

She hands him her glass, saying “Yes, please,” and mentally checking family members off her list of conversation topics.

He returns with two full glasses and gestures at a nearby table, then hands her a glass and raises his own. “To wedding-saving paramedics everywhere,” he smiles. “Amen to that,“ she snickers.

He leans towards her. “Forgive me for asking – but have we met before?”

She laughs. “Funny – I was thinking the same thing when I first saw you. I seriously doubt it, though. This isn’t usually my service area. I’m stationed at the Air Force Academy Hospital in Colorado Springs, so this is a bit of a trip, coming up here.”

He starts. “So, how come?”

“Apparently it was a busy day in Cloverdale, and a slow one in the Springs,” she muses. “We were doing a transport home, to Castle Rock, when my unit intercepted the call, and since we were closest we took it.”

“Cosmic coincidence, then,” he smiles.

“Must be. But hey – I got a party invitation out of it, and some fabulous champagne. Thank you so much.”

“Another one? And a piece of cake, maybe?”

“All right.”

She wonders at his reaction when she mentioned the Academy. There is definitely some connection there.

“So Matt is in the service?” she asks when he returns with more champagne and two slices of cake.

“Just got back from Kandahar, Afghanistan,” he grins. “And now he and Chloe are off to who knows where, via the Springs.”

“Air Force?”

“It’s the one thing he got from me.”

“You’re at Cheyenne Mountain?”

“Was. I, uh… I’m retired. Medical discharge, due to PTSD. I was a POW.”

She stares at him, transfixed. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

He purses his lips, nods distractedly, a thousand miles away. “It messed me up pretty good.”

She reaches for his hand and notices that his right pinkie finger sticks out at an odd angle – maybe a combat injury?

“Hey,” she says softly. “You’re home now. And Matt just got married.”

He sighs, looks up at her and smiles. “Yes… yes, he did. Thanks to you.”

She watches him eat his cake, and her heart goes out to him.

“I’m no specialist,” she says quietly. “But I’m a real good listener. If you ever wanna talk. Okay?”

“Okay.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.” She takes his hand again, running her fingertips over his crippled finger. “I deal with trauma every day of my life. If there’s one thing I understand, it’s that.”

He looks at her, and slowly his smile returns.

“I’m so glad you came,” he says. “I feel like I’ve been waiting…” And he actually blushes.

Her heart is leaping in her chest.

“Yes,” she says.

They smile at each other. She hears others calling his name.

He holds up his hand. “I think it’s my turn to dance with the bride.”

She laughs. “Well, off you go. It’s the right thing to do.”

“May I have the next dance, then?”

“Of course.” She gets up, leads him to the dance floor, hands him over to Chloe.

And she’s amazed at the stab of jealousy she feels as she watches him waltzing skillfully with the young girl. He catches her eye as they pass her, and her breath catches again and the heat goes straight to her groin and she realizes she hasn’t been so turned on in her entire life.

She wants him, wants the warm eyes, the bright smile, the soft hands, his gravelly voice. She wants the kindred spirit, the wounded soul that persists in the face of adversity. She wants the survivor, the man who takes in his friend’s child and raises it as his own, she wants the gentle heart, the depth she sees in him.

She watches him, as he smiles at Chloe. They seem comfortable with each other – they’ve probably known each other for a long time, and he seems as proud of her as he is of his adopted son. It’s a daddy-daughter thing, she understands that, his gaze is that of a father now, not the vulnerable man she’s seen only minutes ago.

The dance ends, and he bows to Chloe as she curtseys and then launches herself into his arms, and he whirls her around as everyone applauds. He leads her to Matthew, and everyone watches as the two of them dance.

She notices a single tear roll down his cheek, and somehow she senses that he’s afraid – afraid of losing Matt, of losing Chloe, afraid of being alone.

Tamara isn’t involved with anyone right now – hasn’t been for quite some time. She loves her independence, and she doesn’t mind the occasional bout of loneliness – she has lots of friends to hang out with. Past lovers usually drifted away over her irregular hours, her stress on the job, the gruesome stories she has for answers to the question “So, how was your day?”

And she certainly doesn’t want to hear other paramedics’ stories. It’s a catch-22 for her – as it is for many people in the medical field. And so she likes the occasional flirt; she’s not afraid to act on impulse if she knows that there will be no regrets later on either side.

She watches Everett, and she wants him. Not once or twice – she wants all of him, forever.

And suddenly she realizes he’s been looking at her, and now it’s her turn to blush. Thankfully, Chloe and Matt finish their dance right then, and another round of hugs follows, as other couples now move onto the dance floor.

She walks up to him and slips into his arms as if she’s done it a million times before.

His slightly shorter height is comfortable to her, and she loves the feel of his hand on the small of her back. His hand is big and warm, and she can feel him tremble ever so slightly. The music moves into a slower tempo and she pulls him closer.

“You’re a good dancer,” she compliments him.

He chuckles, and she can feel the rumble in his chest against her ribcage.

“Thank you,” he responds. “You, however, are absolutely amazing.”

It makes her laugh out loud.

“Seriously,” he continues. “Where did you learn to dance?”

“I dated a professional championship dancer for a while. Contrary to popular belief they’re not all gay.”

“Well, lucky guy,” he muses.

And that’s when she notices him pressing against her leg, as he turns, and the proof of his desire lances through her like lightning.

He notices.

“You okay?”

She nods and looks at him.

He seems embarrassed and steps to the side but she holds on to his arm and pulls him close again.

“Don’t,” she whispers. “I like it. Oh, wow.”

The last few steps of the dance are sweet torture for her as she can feel his erection pressing against her thigh, hears his breath deepen, sees him bite his lip.

They pull apart reluctantly as the music ends, and he holds on to her hand as he pulls her to the side of the room.

“Tamara, I’m so sorry… You’re a gorgeous young woman and I can’t help it… I’m just a –“ She shuts him up by placing a finger across his lips.

“Can we go someplace private?”

He nods and she follows him to the back of the room into the empty caterer’s kitchen. She slips past him and he closes the door.

“I’m not really that kind of a guy–“ he begins, but she silences him by capturing his lips, holding on to him, and soon he responds to her, parts his lips, invites her in, as he places his hands on her hips.

She smiles against his lips. “I know you’re not. But you’re _my_ kind of a guy.” And this time he opens up to her, caressing her tongue with his, stealing her breath, as she peels his jacket off his shoulders, dropping it to the floor behind him.

She pulls back, out of breath, smoothing her hands over his chest, unbuttoning his vest and pushing it off, rubbing her palms over his nipples. He grunts weakly, touching her back, her shoulder blades, her arms.

She kisses him again, deeply, aggressively, making quick work of opening her shirt and bra, then taking his hands and placing them over her naked breasts. His eyes close and he swallows hard as he gently touches her, and she feels herself getting wet and ready for him, the pulsing anticipation almost too much to bear.

His breath hitches as she steps back, toes off her shoes and pushes down her uniform pants and panties.  She digs in her pocket and pulls out a condom packet and puts it on the counter behind her. Then she takes his hand and places it on her groin.

“Make love to me, Everett,” she whispers.

He stares at her, trapped between shock and desire, and she sees the battle waged within him in his face.

“Please,” she says.

He bites his lip again and wraps his arms around her, lifting her up on the table, spreading her legs and slipping a finger into her moist folds. She throws back her head.

“Yes,” she hisses, as she feels his finger push deep into her. Tilting her hips to give him better access she grabs his hand to hold him in place. He looks up at her as he inserts a second, then a third finger, moving them gently, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

And then he pulls his hand back, kneels down, leans in and covers her mound with his mouth, sucking her gently, teasing her with his tongue, and she places her hands on the back of his head, pushing his face into her groin. He hums deep in his throat, and she utters a small cry as she can feels his teeth nibbling at her. She hooks her knees over his shoulders and leans back as his other hand comes up to touch her stomach. She feels the stiff knuckles of his pinkie against her skin, and it’s like a flash of lightning as she reaches the point of no return.

He pushes into her again, deeply, and she’s coming harder than she can ever remember, her entire body shuddering with intense convulsions, and he holds on to her thighs to steady her as she gasps for air.

He gets up, keeping a finger inside her, pulling her up to kiss her while she groans with the aftershocks of her strong orgasm. She can taste herself on his lips and she can’t seem to get enough of their combined flavors.

He slowly withdraws his finger and she moans in protest at the loss.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, kissing her softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

She looks at him, his gentle brown eyes, his rueful smile.

She pulls up his hand, takes his fingers into her mouth, sucks on his pinkie.

“Fuck me, Everett.”

He avoids her heated gaze, looking as if he wanted to say something, his lips moving.

“Everett?”

He shakes his head, looking at his hand on her naked thigh.

And suddenly she understands. It’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to. He simply _can’t_.

She wraps her arms around him, pulls him close, his face against her neck. She strokes his back.

“It’s the memories, isn’t it?”

He nods.

For a while she just holds him, the urgency of their lovemaking past now. She tries to think of what to say to him.

“You’re an amazing man,” she whispers finally. “Nobody has ever made me feel this way.”

He looks away and she sees he’s been crying.

“I’m okay, Everett, really,” she says and kisses his tears away. “I’m okay, and you’re okay, and this was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

That makes him laugh a little.

“I’m serious,” she smiles at him. “So unexpected. Wow. Can we… can we do this again some time?”

“I’m so sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be. I understand, I really do.”

“It’s all in my head, I know that.”

She wiggles off the counter, starts picking up her clothes, slips the condom packet back into her pocket.

“Not all of it. I don’t know what they did to you, but whatever it was, they didn’t break you.” She kisses him gently. “They can make you say or do anything… But you are who you are. No one – _no one_ – can change that.”

He holds out her pants. “Who I am,” he repeats thoughtfully.

She gets dressed, as he watches her and hands her the clothes. When she’s done she slips into his arms, and for a long time they just stand there, holding each other.

“I want to see you again, Everett. Can we be friends? I want to know so much about you, I want to spend time with you.”

“You mean, a date?”

“Okay, sure.”

“We’ve already had sex, Tamara.”

She shrugs. “So – we’re doing this ass-backwards. It’s all right. My rule book says it’s all right.”

He chuckles and bends down to pick up his vest and jacket. “Your rule book? I’d love to read that some time.”

“Deal. How do I look?”

“You look beautiful.”

She laughs. “I mean, can I go back out there without getting you in trouble?”

That makes him smile. “I was in trouble the moment I first saw you.”

“You think people will know?”

“I will know.”

“Okay, then. You go first. I’ll be out in a minute.”

She kisses him again, then squeezes his hand. “Thank you,” she says.

He nods and leaves.

She counts to one hundred, checking her reflection in the glass of the oven door. Then she takes a deep breath and steps back out into the crowd.

She has more champagne, dances with Eli and Ron, and then with Matt.

“Your dad is a fascinating man,” she says.

Matt nods, a little sadly. “He has his demons,” he says. “But he’s the best there is. If I turn out to be half as courageous and strong as him, I’ll be fine.”

“You will be,” she assures him, and his smile says everything she needs to know about how he feels about his father.

Later she dances with Everett again. She laughs, as they both pretend nothing has happened between them.

It’s late when she finally leaves. Everett walks her out to where the cars are waiting. They exchange phone numbers.

“When can I see you again,” she asks him.

“We can go see a movie, maybe,” he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Oh – the one with the alien creatures popping out of the ground that spooked the crap out of Matt?”

He laughs. “Sounds good.”

“I’m off Tuesday a week from now.”

“Tuesday it is. You can park at the house – it’s not a long walk to the Clova.”

“All right.”

She hesitates, then leans in and kisses him on the cheek.

And at his bashful smile she gets into the next car.

He waves.

oOo

She‘s dead on her feet the next day – luckily it’s another really slow day with very few calls, none of them life-threatening. She keeps herself awake with coffee, but the daydreams keep invading her thoughts and she finds herself staring into space, thinking about him, and her heartbeat speeds up as she remembers his soft lips, his hooded eyes, his hot mouth on her.

“Yo, peeps, we have a bit of situation here,” her unit coordinator shakes her out of her reverie, addressing the group of paramedics waiting for the next call.

“The Cloverdale unit had two medics retire, and two others have just handed it their resignations because they’re moving. Their op asked me if we could spare a medic, at least for a few weeks, while they reorganize and get transfers. Anyone interested?”

Tamara is suddenly wide awake.

“I’m happy to help out,” she hears herself say. “I was there yesterday and it seems like a nice town with lots of very friendly people.”

“Fantastic,” her boss nods at her. “Thanks so much. They have a studio apartment next to the dispatch center, and they’ve offered the use of it.”

“Oh wow,” Tamara replies. “That’s really nice! When do I start?”

Her supervisor checks his clip board.

“Monday. That gives you a day to pack some stuff. Here’s the contact info – go ahead and call in and you can finalize everything there.”

She stumbles out of the room, a stupid grin on her face, as if she had just won the lottery. She’s not much for fate and all that, but if this isn’t a sign that she’s meant to be with Everett, she doesn’t know what is.

She calls him that evening and leaves a message, saying she’ll be working in Cloverdale come Monday.

He texts her back late at night: a smiley face.

oOo

The Cloverdale paramedic unit is a great bunch – most of them are ex-Air Force, working towards a second retirement income, and they are thrilled to pieces and beyond grateful to have her join up with them for a while.

One of them, a retired officer named Leanne Barnes, shows her to the small apartment across the street. As she opens the door she immediately spots the little stuffed yellow teddy bear on the table. He holds a card that says “Welcome to Cloverdale! E.Y.”

“Secret admirer?” Barnes asks with a smirk.

Tamara laughs. “Father of a kid I worked on recently.”

Barnes chuckles. “Well, that’s rather sweet, now. How did he know?”

Tamara shrugs innocently. “Beats me. Maybe he knows someone on the unit.”

Barnes helps her unload her car, then gives her directions to a nearby mall. “They have everything there – grocery store, drug store, general store. Oh, and there is a washer and dryer in the dispatch center, so you can do your laundry after your shift. And Brody’s Tavern is right around the corner. Pretty much everybody hangs out there at some point or other during the week.”

Just then Barnes’ comm squawks, and they both rush back to the dispatch center and jump into the ambulance.

“Full-out seizure at the high school,” the driver informs them. “Kid collapsed at soccer practice, started convulsing. The coach responded, called it in.”

“Any history of seizures or epilepsy?”

“Not that he knew.”

They reach the school in under four minutes. Two students wave at them at the curb and Tamara jumps out with her kit, the other two follow with a gurney. She is led to the soccer field behind the school, and her heart stops as she recognizes the man kneeling next to the prone kid: it’s Everett.

He looks up and twitches violently as he sees her, but catches himself quickly.

“Philip Gorman, 15, no prior history of seizures,” he rattles off. “Just collapsed, started shaking.”

Tamara takes his vitals, glad for her training as she manages to appear calm and collected, even though she feels a little faint herself.

“He’s unconscious now but that may be just from exhaustion,” she says. “Let’s start an IV and get some fluids in him, take him to the hospital. Have the parents been notified?”

Everett nods. “School secretary called it in. They’re on their way.”

“They should go straight to the hospital,” Barnes advises and Everett sends one of the kids to pass on the message.

“What did you do when he went down?”

Everett gestures. “Made sure he could hit anything and hurt himself. I’ve responded to seizures before – they say to let them run their course.”

“That’s right,” Tamara smiles at him, then quickly starts the IV.

Barnes and the driver move the gurney as Tamara carries the saline bag.

“Call me tonight,” she whispers as they move off. Everett stands there, looking utterly distraught.

“Thanks, Coach. Philip will be fine,” she says, more loudly. “We’ll have someone call you.”

And then they’re gone.

oOo

Her hand shakes as she picks up the phone, just as she is about to go to bed.

“Hey.”

His voice.

“Hey yourself,” she says, feeling suddenly a little tongue-tied.

“You were awesome this afternoon,” he says. “Philip’s such a great kid. I was so worried about him.”

“He’ll be just fine. They think it may have been an electrolyte imbalance. He’s on a strict sports drink diet now. And I didn’t know you were the soccer coach.”

Everett chuckles. “One of many things I do, to keep myself busy. I love the kids. Wish I’d had a few of my own, back in the day, and with both Matt and Chloe gone, and Eli at MIT, it’s nice to be around young people, you know?”

“Yeah,” she says, smiling at how warm his voice makes her feel. “Thanks for the teddy bear, by the way, that was very sweet of you.”

He sounds genuinely pleased. “I didn’t have time for anything more elaborate. Your new boss lives down the block from me, she took it in.”

“Everyone thinks I have a secret admirer.”

“You do,” he says, his voice more serious. “Listen, I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. I loved spending time with you, but if that’s all there is, that’s ok, you know?”

She bites her lip. He gave her an out, a way to say it never happened, no strings attached.

“I want to see you again, Everett,” she whispers. “I don’t want to wait until next Tuesday. I’m thinking about nothing else. And I’m not even kidding.”

He’s silent for a while. “You’re a very special person,” he says quietly. “And I’m so glad I got to meet you.”

“How about Brody’s Tavern,” she suggests. “I hear it’s close to here.”

“Okay… yeah… I can meet you there.”

“Tomorrow at 9?”

“I’ll be there. Good night, Tamara.”

“Night, Everett.”

oOo

Brody’s is noisy but not uncomfortably so. She looks around, spots him at the bar. She feels a little self-conscious in the skirt and blouse she’s wearing – she doesn’t get much of a chance to dress up. He doesn’t notice her until she steps up next to him.

“Hello, good-looking,” she elbows him.

He startles. “Oh my goodness – Tamara, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even… wow – you look absolutely beautiful!”

He jumps up, kisses her hand, then waves at the bartender. “Yo, Adam!”

The dark-haired man comes over, smiling broadly at her. “You must be Miss Johansen – our new paramedic,” he bows to her. “Everett told me all about you. Philip is my nephew – so your drinks here are on the house! Adam Brody, proprietor and barkeep, at your service.”

He points at a booth. “Vanessa’s kept a table for you – she’ll be right over to take your order.”

“Thanks,” Tamara smiles, and then she follows Everett to the cozy corner, sits down across from him.

“Everett, Miss Johansen – what can I get for you?” The waitress smiles at them both. “The usual for you, Sir?”

Everett nods. “Sure.”

“I’ll have a coke and rum, please.”

“Coming right up.”

They both watch her leave. Tamara looks at him and he quickly looks down at the table, a little embarrassed.

“I’m not really sure what I’m doing here,” he says, drawing circles on the table with his finger.

She laughs.

“That makes two of us. I think the idea is just to spend some time together. I tell you about myself – you tell me about yourself. Isn’t that what one does on a first date?”

He grins, and she wants to hug him, he looks so lost.

“Well, here goes… How’d you get to be the soccer coach?”

He looks relieved.

“Oh, that was Matt’s doing. His high school soccer coach moved out of town, right about when I got… when I came home from the hospital. I was still in a wheelchair and couldn’t do much, but he basically just rolled me over there.” He smiles at the memory. “Honestly, at first it was Matt coaching, and I just watched, but everyone felt it was good to have a parent there, and really, the kids were terrific. They thought it was super cool to have a soccer coach who couldn’t walk.” He laughs.

“He seems like such a great young man.”

“Oh, he is. If it hadn’t been for Matt… well, I would probably not sit here right now.”

She smiles at him. “Neither would I, actually.”

And her heart just melts at the smile he gives her then – the whole room seems to light up. She can’t take her eyes off him.

“One coke and rum for you, I hope I got that right, not rum and coke, yes?” Vanessa sets down Tamara’s drink.

“That’s right – I think you’re the first one that actually got that!”

Vanessa beams.

“And a cranberry seltzer for you, Colonel.”

She sets down Everett’s glass.

“Can I get you anything else?”

Everett holds up a hand. “How about some fried pickles?”

Vanessa nods. “Coming right up.”

Tamara stares after her. “Fried pickles?”

“Yeah, you’ve never had that?”

“I didn’t realize you could fry pickles.”

Everett laughs. “Well, they dip them in tempura and then fry them. You’ll see.”

“All right, I’ll give them a try. So – you’re a colonel?”

He nods. “Yeah. I think that’s gonna stick. I try not to dwell on it.”

“You loved being in the Air Force.”

“I did. I miss it. I miss flying. And you? Why paramedics?”

Tamara shrugs, sips her drink.

“Dad came down with cancer and the treatments ate up all of the savings. There was no money left for med school, and I wasn’t really ready for it, you know? I needed some distance, get away from hospitals, live a little. So I went into paramedic training instead. It pays off much sooner, and with that money I’ve kept training, got my IV certification and a few others.”

“You still thinking about med school?”

“Oh, sure. I think doing this is good preparation.”

“I agree. You’ll be a great doctor some day. Any particular area you’re interested in?”

“Trauma, I guess. Or neurology. I like fixing things. It’s very stressful, of course, but the results are so immediate. It’s quite the rush to know that you’ve made a real difference in someone’s life. So, how long were you in a wheelchair?”

He scrunches up his eyebrows, trying to remember. “Three months, I think – give or take. Both my legs and my pelvis were broken in several places.”

Tamara winces in sympathy. “Ouch. Is that when you broke your finger?”

His face twitches into a pained smile.

“I’d broken it before, and now it just can’t be fixed any more without major surgery. It was rough. Matt was the one who kept me going, really. So much shit going on, you know?”

Tamara is about to ask about Matt’s mother when Vanessa returns with a large basket of fried pickles, plates, dip and napkins. “Enjoy,” she says and withdraws discreetly.

Everett gestures at the golden brown disks. “Try one.”

She does. And it’s just about the best thing she’s ever eaten. “Oh my goodness,” she mumbles with her mouth full. He gives her an ‘I told you so’ look and digs in as well.

He tells her about other odd jobs he’s doing – pet sitting, running a single fathers support group, helping with the community garden, ushering at the local university theatre productions, coaching the soccer team, working with a wildlife rescue group – she can’t imagine him having any time off at all. She tells him about funny things she’s seen as a medic, her plans and dreams for the future.

Time flies.

He sees her checking the time and offers to walk her home. She gladly accepts, considering for a moment to ask him in later but then deciding to let him take the next step.

Outside the tavern he offers her his arm and she sidles up close to him.

“I had a lovely time tonight. Thank you so much. I think I might be a little drunk, too!”

Everett laughs. “Brody has some good rum, that’s for sure.”

“You don’t drink? Except for champagne?”

He sighs. “I tend to drink too much when I do. It’s hard for me to know when to stop. I don’t think I ever qualified as an alcoholic as such, but I wanted you to see me, not that other guy.”

She stops and takes his hand.

“Who was it at the wedding? You or the other guy?”

He bites his lip.

“Tamara, I –“

“Please, Everett.”

“I don’t even know how to explain it. What we did… that wasn’t me. I would never be able to do that, just like so.”

She stares at him in mild horror.

“Oh no. Did I –“

He shakes his head. “No. no… It wasn’t me, but I wanted it anyway. I could have stepped away, but I wanted it. I wanted you. I wanted…”

She reaches out, touches his cheek.

“You did something that’s painful to you to make me feel good.”

“I wanted it. I wanted… and that way I could. And I don’t think the alcohol had anything to do with it.”

He’s visibly upset now, and she pulls him into a hug, afraid he might just bolt on her.

“Look,” she says, taking his hands into hers, “You took something that was a horrible memory for you, and you used it to make someone else happy – because you _wanted_ to make me happy. It’s okay, Everett. You took the ugly thing and made it beautiful. You made it work _for_ you. It didn’t use _you_. You used _it_ , for what you wanted.”

He stares at the ground, but finally he nods.

“Look at me, Everett. I don’t know what happened to you, and you don’t ever have to tell me if you don’t want to. But if you were sexually abused it doesn’t mean you pass it on. I have never been more turned on in my whole life. I’m not just saying that. It’s the truth. You gave me something wonderful last weekend. That’s all that matters.”

She sees his eyes glistening in the light of the streetlamp.

“It wasn’t really me… It just – it took over. It was automatic. I couldn’t stop it.”

“Did you want to?”

“No. Yes, I wanted it. That’s what I don’t understand. I hate myself for what happened, but I’m so glad that you were happy. It makes no sense.”

She smiles.

“If sense had anything to do with it, the human species would have died out long ago.”

He nods.

They walk in silence for a few minutes.

“Tamara, you have to understand I wasn’t always like this.”

“I know. But you see – I didn’t know you before. I don’t know that man. I know you – a little bit, at least – the way you are now. And I’m okay with that. I can accept everything about you. I don’t have to compare you to who you were before. I can’t. I’m not sure I’d want to.”

They reach her building.

She kisses him softly on the cheek. “Hold on to this,” she whispers. “You wanted to make me happy. And you did. You really did. And you made me happy this evening. Okay?”

He nods, looks up at her.

“Thank you,” he finally says.

They hug.

“Good night.” She squeezes his hand. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Good night.”

She enters her building, looks out the window of the small apartment. He’s standing on the sidewalk across the street.

She waves.

He waves back and smiles.

oOo

She doesn’t hear from him over the next few days, and her shifts keep her busy. Any minute she gets in between she spends researching adoptions, single parenting, PTSD, POW rehabilitation, borderline alcoholism and sexual abuse of men. She’s upset by how little she’s able to find about the latter – and particularly about the abuse of men by women. She guesses that in his case one or more women may have been involved, and there’s virtually nothing that’s of any help.

She posts on several medical bulletin boards online, hoping for guidance or information, but again, there’s mostly silence, beyond the generic advice she’s already found.

It scares her.

She’s never met a man with so much emotional baggage, and the voice of reason in her head tells her to run the other way.

And then she looks at the teddy bear, and she knows she won’t abandon him. She doesn’t know what it is about him that fascinates her, when indeed almost everything about him frightens her.

Her phone rings.

“Johansen.”

“Hey, TJ? It’s Matthew Scott.”

“Matthew! Hey, how are you? Are you passed out somewhere? Need me to bring over some Gatorade?”

Matt laughs.

“No, no, I’m fine. Listen, I’m sorry I’m just calling you like that – I got your number from your dispatcher, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No problem. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m not supposed to tell you any of this, but I’m doing it anyway… Chloe and I are off on a highly classified mission. We’ll be gone for quite some time, and we can’t be recalled easily.”

“Okay – military cloak and dagger stuff. I get it.”

“I’m worried about my dad. I heard you are currently on the Cloverdale unit. Would you mind checking in on him every once in a while? You seemed to get along so well at the reception, and he was raving about you, so I was wondering if that’s not too much to ask.”

“No, it’s no problem. I ran into him a couple of times already, and earlier this week we hung out at Brody’s.”

Matt blows out a breath. “Thanks so much, TJ. I mean, he has a lot of friends and they all look after him, but you have the training, so I thought maybe…”

“Don’t panic, Matt, I got it. Is there anything in particular you’re worried about?”

There’s a few moments of silence.

“Please don’t tell him I said that, TJ. He has issues, you know that. He drinks too much when he loses control. And he never tells anyone when he’s in pain. He’s still hurting from his injuries. And he gets lonely. I talk to him almost every day on the phone or on Skype. I won’t be able to do that. Now, he knows I’m going on a classified mission, and he says he’s all right, but… ah, I don’t know. I just worry.”

“Matt, I’ll do what I can. He hasn’t told me much about what happened to him, but I’m starting to get an idea. We’re going to see a movie next Tuesday, at the Clova, maybe have dinner before.”

“Oh!” Matt sounds relieved. “You’re getting pretty close, then.”

“You could say that,” Tamara chuckles. “He’s a good man, your dad. We have a lot in common, actually.”

“Whew, all right then. Listen, would you mind if I list you as his next of kin? I’m sorry. I’m just a little anxious, that’s all.”

“Matt – we just met two weeks ago!”

“He thinks the world of you, TJ. He talks about nothing else these days. He’s very fond of you. And I would trust you to do the right thing. You know about emergencies, and all.”

“Well, I’m flattered, really, but are you sure you want to do that?”

“Yes. It’s just for my own peace of mind, you know.”

“It’s all right, Matt. Okay, go ahead and list me, if that’s what you really want. I’m happy to help out. Say hi to Chloe.”

“Oh! Yes, of course! Chloe, it’s TJ – say hi!”

She hears Chloe yell “Hey TJ!” in the background. Tamara smiles.

“You two be careful, now.”

“We will. Thank you so much. Bye-bye.”

“Good luck!”

She hangs up, sighing.

oOo

She runs into Everett the next day in front of the post office. He’s wrestling four small dogs who have found an interesting smelling spot on the sidewalk.

“Good grief,” she says. “Are you a hoarder?”

He looks up and his face melts into a delighted grin. “Tamara! Hey! No, these are four of the little snarling curs I’m babysitting right now… Prissy, Maggie, Isla and Maggie.”

“Who names two of their dogs the same?”

“Oh, Maggie and Prissy belong to one lady and Maggie and Isla to another.”

Tamara kneels down and the dogs yap excitedly and sniff her hands.

“How are you,” she finally says and gets up again.

He shrugs. “Keeping busy. Are we still on for Tuesday?”

“Of course! I’m looking forward to it. Should I pick you up at your house?”

“Okay, sure. 6 o’ clock maybe? The movie starts at 8, so we can grab dinner beforehand. I’m at 3025 Edgewood Drive. I can draw you a quick map…” He rifles through his pockets.

“I can google it,” she smiles.

“Oh, of course.” He shakes his head. “I’m so 20th century sometimes.”

She laughs. “Well, I gotta get back to the station – my lunch break is just about over.”

He looks like he wants to say something else, but then he just smiles at her.

“Okay. See you then.”

She nods and briefly touches his hand.

He whistles. “Come on, girls, time to move on.”

She waves, as he leaves with the dogs.

oOo

She’s counting days, then hours.

She dreams of him, dreams of his soft lips, his warm brown eyes, his gentle hands, and the dream turns into a nightmare, leaving him bruised and beaten, bleeding and defiled. She wakes up crying.

She’s counting hours, then minutes.

oOo

His house is easy enough to find – an older two storey building with a white picket fence out front. The engine of his little red jeep in the driveway makes little crackling noises and the hood is still warm – a sign that he just got home himself.

She goes around to the back door as instructed and knocks. She waits – there’s no answer.

She tries the door – it’s unlocked.

“Everett?”

There are several grocery bags on the kitchen counter, his car keys next to them, a pair of running shoes and socks on the floor.

She calls out again – no response.

She walks through the kitchen into the hall and gasps in shock.

Everett is lying at the foot of the stairs in a large puddle of blood, his legs still halfway up the steps, feet bare.

“Oh shit…” she whispers, checking his pulse. It’s barely there. She pulls out her cell phone and dials 911.

“This is Tamara Johansen, I’m at 3025 Edgewood Drive. It looks like the homeowner fell down the stairs, he’s unconscious, substantial blood loss – I need an ambulance right away. I’ll see if I can open the front door – the back door is already open.”

She drops the phone, taps his cheek, trying to rouse him, without success. She checks him over, her training kicking in, as she looks for fractures without moving him. He’s bleeding profusely from a wound on top of his head. She looks upstairs and notices a cabinet door in the doorway and she can guess what happened.

“Hang in there, Everett, they’ll be here in a minute. Please hang in there,” she begs. Then she gets up, unlocks the front door with some difficulty and opens it. She can hear the ambulance siren already. Turning back to him she spots a basket of laundry nearby and pulls out a dishtowel, pressing it firmly against the seeping wound.

Barnes comes rushing in. “TJ! What happened?”

“I don’t know. I found him lying like this, bleeding pretty badly. I think he may have hit his head on that cabinet door up there and fallen down the stairs. Looks like he dislocated his ankle and maybe broke his foot, too.”

Barnes hands her a pen light and she checks his eyes. “Pupils uneven – strong chance of TBI.”

“Get the neck brace and the stretcher,” Barnes yells out the door.

Seconds later they have attached the brace and Tamara helps them lift him onto the stretcher, carefully keeping him in the position they found him. She quickly sets an IV and Barnes gets the saline bag.

“I’m coming with you – go on, I’ll close the doors,” Tamara says.

“Sheriff’s on the way,” Barnes shakes her head. “He’ll need your statement.”

“I don’t care – he can send someone to the hospital. I’m not leaving him.”

Moments later she climbs into the back of the ambulance, and as they leave with sirens blaring she pulls out the rescue blankets and carefully drapes them over his still form.

“He the one who sent you the teddy bear?”

She nods.

“Hey.” Barnes squeezes her shoulder reassuringly. “He’ll be all right.”

“I hope so,” she whispers.

They reach the hospital and he is whisked away into the emergency room.

Tamara collapses in a chair outside. Her mind is numb, she can’t form a single coherent thought.

She sits and stares.

She loses track of time.

oOo

“You must be the medic who found him,” a friendly voice makes her look up. It’s a man in uniform, and the star pinned to his chest identifies him as the sheriff.

“Yes, Sir.”

He pulls out a pen and notebook. “Nobody’s suspecting foul play, Ms Johansen. I saw you at Matt’s wedding. I know you’re a friend of the family, as am I. David Telford. I’m the sheriff. Please, tell me exactly what happened.”

She does – she hears her own voice with an odd kind of detachment, as if she were someone else talking about someone else again.

Telford touches her shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be all right. He’s had a lot worse.”

A doctor enters. “Ms Johansen? I’m Dr. Tyman. You called in the trauma case with Everett Young?”

“I did. How’s he doing?”

Tyman sits down next to her.

“He’s got a serious head wound, two cracked ribs, a dislocated ankle and a badly broken foot, complicated fractures in several places. He slipped into a coma during our initial assessment, and, like you thought, we also suspect a traumatic brain injury. We’re getting a number of scans right now to see if there’s any swelling to his brain or other internal hemorrhages.” He winces. “His condition is serious. We’ve called in Dr. Brightman from the Academy – she’s treated him before and is most familiar with his medical history.”

“Can we see him?” Telford gets up.

“They’ve got him in MRI right now, so it will be a quite a while. You’re welcome to wait.”

Telford shakes his head. “I gotta get back to the office.”

“I’m staying,” Tamara says, her voice a little shaky.

Telford hands her his card. “Please, keep me paged. We’re friends, and I want to know how he’s doing.”

She nods and he leaves.

Tyman sighs. “You’re a medic, so I don’t need to explain to you what’s going on, right?”

“No. What are his chances?”

Tyman shrugs. “Hard to say at this point. You must have found him minutes after it happened. You know how badly head wounds bleed. But given the size of his injury he hasn’t lost that much blood, so he was incredibly lucky in that respect. I’ll let you know the minute he’s in a room.”

He gives her a brief smile and leaves.

She stares at the clock on the wall. The movie must have started by now.

oOo

“Ms Johansen?”

She starts, suddenly realizing she has dozed off. It’s after ten when a nurse comes to take her to him.

He’s in a room in ICU and she gasps as she sees him. His head has been shaved and he’s on a ventilator. A jumble of sensors and wires are attached to his head and chest, and his right foot is in an aircast up to his knee.

“Hi. I’m Dr. Siegler.” She turns to see a smiling older man entering the room.

“Hi,” she says.

“I’ve got good news and bad news. The MRI shows relatively minor damage, so hopefully the secondary trauma won’t change that. Bad news – he’s still in a coma. As you know, the extent to which a patient remains comatose can serve as a fairly accurate guide for recovery. Let’s hope he comes out of it soon – his chances will increase manifold then. Dr. Brightman will be here soon – she can fill you in on other details. Oh, and just to make sure – his son has listed you as next of kin, since he’s apparently unavailable due to matters pertaining to national security.”

She gulps, remembering Matt’s worried voice. “Yes, that’s fine,” she whispers.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you.” She shakes her head.

“Coffee it is,” Siegler chuckles. “Cream or sugar?”

She has to smile, despite herself. “Both, please.”

He leaves, and minutes later an aide hands her a steaming cup of fresh coffee. She sips it absentmindedly, watching his chest rise and sink in regular intervals, while the ventilator hisses quietly.

oOo

She tells herself she needs to be strong for him. She knows enough about brain trauma and monitoring systems to be able to understand what the machines are saying. She has no concept of time passing anymore. She knows she can’t do anything but wait.

And then she starts to cry.

She holds his hand, and she cries.

“Hey,” a soft voice comes from the door.

She looks up and sees a woman with her dark hair tied up in a bun. She hands her a tissue. Tamara takes it and blows her nose.

“I’m Alison Brightman,” the woman introduces herself. “May I sit with him for a moment?”

“Sure,” she sniffles and gets up.

“Oh, Everett,” Brightman sighs quietly. She takes out her penlight, checks his pupils, his pulse, gently probes his limbs in a few places. Then she smiles at Tamara.

“He was lucky you found him so quickly. His external injuries aren’t that severe. The broken foot is a complicated orthopedic issue and will take a long time to heal, but it will be fine. We do have a slight swelling in the brain, he probably has a pretty bad concussion, but as soon as he wakes up we’ll have a clearer idea of what we’re dealing with. What’s your security clearance?”

“Security clearance?”

“Ah – none. Okay, I’ll see what I can do about that. It’s kinda hard to converse with the next of kin when you can’t really talk about anything. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. Matt probably didn’t have time to deal with the paperwork.”

“What do I need a security clearance for?”

“Well, a lot of Everett’s work in the Air Force was classified. But I can get you a basic clearance level at least, probably more. What you need to know is that my biggest worry is the new damage to his brain.”

“I know he was a POW.”

“For six months,” Brightman nods. “He almost didn’t make it. But I managed to outstubborn him, and over time he made a fantastic recovery. But medical evidence suggests that even mild cases of TBI can have cumulative effects that can sometimes –“ she trails off. “Wait a sec.”

Tamara looks at Everett. His eyes are open.

“Hey there, Colonel Young. It’s Dr. Brightman. Do you remember me?”

There is no response.

Brightman pushes the call button, and seconds later the nurse shows up. Tamara tucks herself into a corner as the doctor removes the breathing tube from his throat. Everett coughs once, twice, whimpers painfully, and then his eyes close again.

Brightman smiles at her. “This is good – he’s asleep again but – again, just that.”

“Oxygen line or mask,” the nurse wants to know.

“Mask,” Brightman decides. “He tends to snore when he lies on his back – the line would do little good.”

And soon it’s all done. Tamara sits down.

Brightman sighs. “I’ve had a long day – and we just won a small victory here, so I’m gonna grab some shut-eye, look at his progress in the morning. Right now sleeping is the best thing he can do. You should get some rest, too.”

“All right. Thank you. I’ll just be another minute.”

Brightman nods at her and leaves.

Tamara takes his hand.

“Come on, Everett. You’re gonna make it, okay? I’m going away for a little bit now, but I’ll be back soon. Just sleep. Don’t worry.”

She kisses him on the forehead and reluctantly turns away. Her apartment is just two blocks down the road. She collapses on her bed without even taking her shoes off and falls asleep immediately.

oOo

She wakes to a loud banging on the door.

“Yes?”

“TJ, open the damn door. You have your phone turned off. One of the docs from the hospital called – she wants you there as soon as you can.”

Tamara stumbles to the door and Leanne Barnes squeezes in.

“Goodness, you’re a fright,” she says. “Off you go, take a shower. I’ll get you some clothes. I heard what happened – I’ll take your shift today. Go. Go!”

Tamara mumbles a word of thanks, then quickly showers and Barnes has a set of clothes ready for her when she emerges from the stall. Then she hands her a large thermal mug.

“Here, coffee.”

“Leanne-“

“Hurry up. I need to be at the station in 10 minutes. I’m going to drop you off at the hospital first.”

And before she knows it she sits in Barnes’ little VW and they pull up at the hospital.

“You go girl. Go save your man.” And she’s off again.

Tamara stands there dumbfounded for a moment, then rushes into the building.

Dr. Brightman greets her with a smile.

“Good morning! Look who’s got his eyes open today.”

And as she steps into the room Everett looks at her – his eyes focus on her, then slip away again.

“He’s aware of movement, of people in the room,” Brightman gestures at him.

She steps closer. “Everett?”

Again, he looks at her, squints a little, then closes his eyes.

She touches his fingers and sits down, cradling his hand against her chest.

“Hey,” she says, stroking his forearm, rubbing his pinkie. “You back with us?”

She turns to look at Brightman, who smiles at her. “Sleeping again. You got here just in time. But he’s aware, so that’s great. We’ll move him to a private room later today, after we run another set of scans.”

“How’s it look?”

“I’m quite worried about the swelling. The scans will tell us whether we have to do a ventriculostomy – insert a catheter to drain some of the cerebrospinal fluid to relieve the pressure. That’s the kind of secondary injury I warned you about.”

“I remember.”

“I hope we won’t have to, but if it’s indicated he’ll go into surgery right away, and then he’s back in ICU.”

“I understand. When are the scans scheduled?”

“One o’clock. If you want to sit with him until then, that’s fine, but if you have to go to work-“

“One of my colleagues just took my shift – it was her day off.”

Brightman whistles through her teeth. “Some colleague!”

Tamara nods. “And I’ve only worked here for a couple of weeks!”

“Wow. Well, you take care now. Call the nurse if anything happens.”

She waves and leaves.

Tamara scoots closer to him, gently rubs his arm and massages his fingers. His face is relaxed and his calm breaths cause patches of condensation on the inside of the mask. She bites her lip as she surveys his bald head, the markings for the scans clearly visible next to the stark white bandage of his wound. She reaches out to touch his cheek with the back of her fingers, and his stubble scratches her skin.

She smiles.

“I’ll bring a razor tomorrow. Give you little buzz, if they’ll let me. Although, I like a little bit of the scruff. It suits you. Maybe not tomorrow then. In a few days, okay? When you can be awake longer. I know it’s kinda scary to have someone else shave you. But I’m actually pretty good at it. I shaved my dad all the time when he was too sick to do it himself.”

And she tells him about her father – how they used to go camping, since they both loved the outdoors. How he was the one who taught her to do stitches – as a tailor he even stitched himself up after cutting himself with some scissors, and how he had kept right on working. How the cancer ravaged him, and how he kept on fighting, and how devastated she was when he finally succumbed to the disease.

She tells him about finding a tiny field mouse in her sleeping bag once, before he got sick, and the trouble they went through to get the creature safely back outside.

It might just be her imagination, but he seems to rest easier when she’s talking quietly to him, that the crease between his eyebrows is less severe when she touches him, as if a frown had disappeared.

He doesn’t wake up again until they come to get him for the scans. She knows it will take a while, and so she heads down to the cafeteria for a bite. And then she waits.

In the afternoon Dr. Brightman comes to see her.

“His intracranial pressure has gone up – not to critical levels yet, but enough for the catheter to become necessary. I’ll be doing the surgery myself, it’s pretty straightforward and doesn’t take very long at all. He’s had one before so it should be a breeze. The scar is still there. I’ll let you know the moment it’s done, okay?”

Tamara nods. And she can’t help but cry a little, as she watches the doctor hurry off.

oOo

She wakes up as Dr. Brightman shakes her shoulder – it’s early evening.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she blinks at her, surreptitiously wiping the drool off her cheek.

“It’s all right,” the doctor smiles. “Everything went well, the cath is in and we’ve drained a good bit of fluid – none too early, I might add, as his pressure is still going up.”

“May I see him?”

“Sure, that’s why I’m here.”

Tamara follows her out of the cafeteria down the hall towards the ICU. “I spoke to General Landry at Cheyenne Mountain, and he called General O’Neill at the Pentagon – he was Everett’s CO when he was captured – and he pried out a mid-level clearance for you. Everyone is very concerned about him.”

“I barely know him, really.”

Brightman smiles.

“He told me about you, after Matt’s wedding.”

“Really? Why would he do that?”

“We’ve kept in touch since he retired. And I think you meant a lot more to him than he meant to you, at least, back then. I’m so glad to see his trust in you was well-founded.”

“Oh… what did he say?”

“Well, he-“ she stops herself and smiles. “I think you should hear that from him, not from me.”

Tamara bites her lip to keep from crying. “It’s all just a little overwhelming, you know?”

Brightman sighs.

They reach the room.

He’s back on the ventilator, the catheter held in place by an attachment to a neck brace. It looks like some demented torture device to her, and although she’s familiar with the technique she’s never actually seen one.

“We’re keeping him sedated right now, until we can get the intracranial pressure issues under control. It can be very traumatic for a patient to wake up and realize they’ve got a needle stuck in their brain.”

“How long, do you think?”

“A few days at the most. The cath is actually just supporting the drugs he’s getting. If all goes as planned we’ll see a dramatic improvement soon.”

Tamara can’t help the tears running down her face; she’s both horrified and relieved at the same time.

Everett looks so small in that bed, surrounded by all those monitors and lines, and she wishes she didn’t feel so helpless.

Dr. Brightman touches her elbow.

“He’s a fighter, I know that first hand. I don’t know anyone stronger than him, or more courageous. You’ll see. It may take a while, but with your help he’s got a lot to look forward to.” And then she pulls her into a hug.

Tamara cries into her shoulder. The doctor just holds her until she calms down a little.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a bit, then. And then you should probably go home and get some rest. I’ll call you if his condition changes. And I’ve already requested a few medics from the base to fill in for you while you’re on leave to see him through this.”

“I’m on leave?”

Dr. Brightman chuckles. “Oh, I didn’t tell you that? I spoke with your boss and traded three base medics for you. General Landry was happy to help out.”

“I’ve only been there two weeks, and it’s supposed to be just temporary!”

Brightman shrugs.

“We take care of our own when we can. So, get some rest. Come back in the morning and spend the day.”

Tamara nods. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She leaves.

Tamara sits down next to his bed, listens to the rhythmic hiss of the ventilator, the quiet beeps of the monitoring equipment. She watches the colored lines running evenly across the screens, in unvarying patterns.

She takes his right hand and places it against her cheek.

“Two weeks,” she muses. “And it feels like I’ve known you forever. Maybe I have, in another life. It sure would explain a lot. I’m going home now, to sleep. But I will be back. You need to sleep, too, and get better. Because you still owe me a movie date.”

She kisses his palm, gently mouths his crippled finger.

“Good night, Everett.”

And then she stumbles back to her apartment.

There’s a card on her table, next to the yellow teddy bear. “TV dinners in freezer. Fresh fruit, pickles, rum and coke in fridge. Enjoy.”

She smiles as she notices the Brody’s logo on the back. Underneath it says “Philip is fine. He says hi. Welcome to Cloverdale!”

She feels at home.

oOo

There hasn’t been any change when she gets back to the hospital the next morning.

“It’s a bit of a juggling act,” Dr. Brightman explains. “We’re constantly adjusting the drugs and the oxygen saturation. But it’s been very minor changes and I hope to have everything stabilized in a day or so. Did you get some rest?”

Tamara nods. She’s slept like a log, but not for long.

Everett looks pale to her. Pale and cold. His hand feels clammy when she holds it.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Just let him know you’re there. It’s been well documented that even people under heavy sedation can have some awareness of their surroundings, which they may incorporate into dreams – that’s how we know.”

“I brought a book.” She holds it up.

“’The Hero’s Journey’?”

“It seemed appropriate.”

Brightman laughs. “It’s perfect. It’s a good book, too – I read it back in undergrad.”

And with that and a reassuring pat on the shoulder she leaves her alone with him.

Tamara reads to him. Page after page, holding his hand, stopping only when the nurse comes in to check on him or to adjust his medication. And maybe it’s just her imagination, but the color seems to slowly return to his cheeks, and his hand feels warmer.

She takes a break to go eat a sandwich in the cafeteria, grabs a cup of coffee and then returns to him. She steps out again later when they do a physical assessment and to clean him up.

She’s tired. But she keeps reading.

People stop by over the next few days: Brody and his nephew Philip, Vanessa from the tavern, Leanne Barnes from the dispatch, Sheriff Telford, a strawberry blond man named Dale Volker who’s Everett’s pharmacist, his neighbors Camile Wray and Sharon Walker, one of the dog owners, Lisa Park, even the manager of the Clova Movie Theatre, Darren Becker. Tamara feels like she’s met the whole town. None of them are allowed in his room, but she talks to all of them in the lobby. It helps pass the time, and they all bring her things – candy, chocolate, hot coffee, cookies. Philip has a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for her.

Everybody treats her as if it’s the most natural thing that she should be there, as if they’ve known her forever, and once again she has the feeling that maybe they have.

oOo

She wakes up as her cell phone pings in a text message from Dr. Brightman.

“Off the vent,” it reads. “IC press good. Stop by if u can.”

She rushes to take a shower, throws on some clothes and jogs down to the hospital, arriving at the ICU out of breath.

Everett seems to be resting peacefully, propped up a little higher than before. He’s wearing scrubs now, and the spot where the catheter was is now covered with a fresh bandage.

“Scans look good,” Dr. Brightman tells her. “We’re weaning him off the sedatives now. As soon as he wakes up we’ll do another assessment and then hopefully move him to a private room.”

Tamara sits down next to him and strokes his arm.

“Hey, you,” she says. “I hear you’re doing better. You don’t have a tube stuck in your head anymore. That’s really good, because that thing looked awful.” She kisses his hand. “Want me to read to you again?”

She pulls out her book and sets it down on the bed next to him. For several minutes she just looks at him. His hair is already starting to grow back – a faint dark shadow on his scalp. His scruff has increased a little, too, and she marvels at the amount of grey she sees there. Checking his wristband she learns that his birth date is February 20, 1968 – about sixteen years older than her.

He really could be her father, technically speaking. A very young father, but still.

“I’m glad you aren’t,” she whispers.

His breathing is deep and even, and every once in a while she sees his eyes move behind his closed lids, and she suspects he’s dreaming, maybe in an effort to come back from the induced unconsciousness.

She texts a status update to Brody who has been posting them on a chalkboard in the tavern, and then she takes his hand and begins to read again.

oOo

His fingers twitch beneath hers.

She looks up – and straight into warm hazel eyes. He looks sleepy, but he’s smiling at her. It gives her a jolt that makes her gasp.

“Oh my goodness,” she breathes. “Everett?”

His smile widens and his lips move, as if he’s trying to say something in response. She removes the oxygen mask carefully, then wraps her hands around his. “Do you know who I am?”

He exhales, slowly, bites his lower lip, blinks rapidly. “Tam… Ta… ma… Tam…”

“That’s right. It’s a difficult name, isn’t it?”

He nods. “Tam…” he tries again. She smiles at him and waits.

“Tam… mmm… ara.”

“Yes,” she laughs. “Hold on a second. Let me call the nurse.”

But in that same moment Dr. Brightman enters.

“Well, hello there, beautiful,” she says with a delighted smile.

“He just woke up. He remembers my name!”

“That’s great! What’s your name?”

“Ev… Evvvv… rett.”

“And me?”

“Al… lis… lis… son.”

“Excellent! You’re definitely still in there.”

Tamara makes room so the doctor can get closer to him.

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

“Nuh… nnno…”

“You hit your head on a cabinet door – dinged your skull pretty good, and then you fell down the stairs. Can you tell me where you feel pain?”

“Mmmm… h-hea-head. Foot. Chess...”

“You’ve got chest pain?” Brightman sounds alarmed.

“Nuh… brea… brea…” He coughs, then winces in pain.

“It hurts when you breathe?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You broke two ribs, Everett, that’s probably why.”

He nods.

“You also broke your right foot, and you suffered a traumatic brain injury. I’ll tell you more about it when you feel a little better. We’re going to run a bunch of tests now and a few more scans, as a baseline, so we can track your improvement over the next few days. In the meantime, TJ here has received a mid-level clearance from General O’Neill. If you’d like, I can fill her in. Do you want me to do that?”

His eyes dart away to find hers, and after a moment he nods.

“All right. I’ll go schedule your tests. Welcome back, Colonel.”

She briefly squeezes Tamara’s hand as she leaves.

He bites his lip again and takes a deep breath, then moans in pain. Tamara rushes to his side.

“It’s the ribs, Everett. I know they hurt.”

She takes his hand.

“You’ll be busy for a while, so I’ll step out, check on work, get some sleep… Hey, would you like me to bring a shaving kit?”

He frowns; his hand twitches, then he looks at her, his eyes full of misery.

“It’ll take a while for you to re-learn your motor skills, I’m sure,” she soothes. Carefully reaching for his face she strokes his cheek with the back of her fingers. “You’re pretty scruffy. If you want I can help you with that. I used to shave my dad all the time when he was too sick to do it himself.”

His lips move again, then he sighs in frustration and nods. “Oh… kay,” he manages to get out.

“One shave, coming right up,” she smiles. “No haircut, though. They shaved your head because of the wound and the… well, Dr. Brightman will explain. It’s starting to grow back, though.”

His hand twitches again, and this time his forearm moves, too.

“Don… go…” he says.

She smiles sadly. “I have to. I can’t be there for the exams and the scans. I’m sure they’ll clean you up, too, and you’ll feel so much better in your own room. And then I’ll be back, okay? Don’t worry, I’m not going to leave you.”

And she leans in and gently kisses him on the cheek.

He looks at her with wide eyes.

Then two orderlies come bustling in to move his bed and she waves.

She sits down, exhausted. After a while she packs up her book and other things and slowly leaves the room.

She’s dead on her feet as she reaches her apartment and immediately lies down for a nap.

oOo

She dreams that it’s her in the bed and Everett is taking care of her. She can’t speak, can’t move, can’t breathe, and she wakes up in a panic, her heart beating wildly, and she feels utterly miserable just thinking about what he must be going through.

After taking a shower she changes into fresh clothes and gathers some shaving supplies: a disposable razor, shaving cream and a bottle of witch-hazel in lieu of aftershave. She grabs two dish towels and wraps everything in a plastic bag, tucking the bundle into her backpack. She heats up one of Brody’s TV dinners and wolfs it down indiscriminately.

On the way to the hospital she stops by at the dispatch center where everybody is engrossed in a heated game of Monopoly. They greet her with great fanfare and she has to tell them what has happened over the past week.

“It’s been incredibly quiet here,” Barnes says. “No real emergencies, even. We’ve actually been bored most of the time.”

Tamara is relieved.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she promises. They wish her well and she leaves, hiking on to the hospital.

She inquires about Everett’s new room at the receptionist’s desk and climbs the stairs and walks down the hall, running straight into Dr. Brightman.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re back,” she says. “Our patient got pretty agitated and upset without you.”

“Is he all right?”

“Oh yes – he just panicked a little, not seeing you there when he woke up. I was just going to call you.”

“Thanks,” Tamara says, and hurries on to the new room.

“She’ll be here in just a few minutes, I’m sure,” she hears a nurse’s soothing voice. She slips in, sees Everett nod, breathing hard. He sighs as he notices her, looking so small and frightened.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Tamara says. “You giving the staff a hard time?”

The nurse smiles. “It’s all right, nothing unusual for TBI cases. Use the call button if you need anything.”

As she leaves Tamara sits down next to him, rubbing his shoulder gently.

“I’m here,” she whispers. “You all right?”

He smiles a little. “Tam… mara.”

She pulls up her backpack, rummages for the shaving kit and holds it up for him to see.

“I brought some shaving supplies. Wanna give it a shot?”

“Yes, than… thank y-you.”

“All right, then. Let me just get some hot water going.” She walks over to the sink, runs the water until it’s hot, then soaks one of her dish towels.

“This might be a little warm for your taste, but it’s a good way to start when you haven’t shaved in a while.”

She gently wraps the cloth around his jaw and chin, carefully removing his oxygen line in the process. Holding the towel in place she places a quick kiss on his forehead.

“I’ve done this like a thousand times,” she reminisces. “When my dad was so sick. He couldn’t stand stubble. Some guys are okay with it, but he liked to be clean-shaven.”

Everett doesn’t reply but watches her closely, his eyes following her every move.

She repeats the wrap twice more. Then she leaves the towel in place while she takes out the can of shaving cream. He starts at the hissing sound, as she squirts the foam into the hollow of her hand. Then she removes the towel and applies the shaving cream to his face. She smiles – she’s always thought that men look incredibly funny with the white fluff on their faces.

She picks up the razor, carefully tilts his head up and begins to scrape off the scruff. She goes about it slowly and methodically, wiping the razor on the wet towel as she goes.

Suddenly she notices he is as stiff as a board, tense to the point of trembling, his breathing rapid and shallow.

“What’s wrong?”

Everett closes his eyes; his hands are twitching on the sheets.

She puts the razor down and wipes off his face, then gently pushes his chin to make him look at her.

“Everett, what’s the matter? Can you tell me? Is this hurting you?”

He shakes his head, then looks at her, and she notices a single tear slipping from the corner of his eye.

“Are you scared I might cut you?”

“No…”

She searches his face, confused.

“Do you trust me, Everett?”

“Yes.”

“I would never hurt you, you know that, right?”

“Yes.”

She looks at her hands, then gasps as the realization hits her.

“It reminds you, doesn’t it? Of when you were a POW. Did they shave you there?"

He nods.

“Did they hurt you when they did that? Did they cut you or threaten to cut you?”

“No.”

He looks away, then closes his eyes, swallowing hard.

She reaches for his hand and cradles it against her chest.

“It’s a loss of control,” she says quietly. “The inability to be able to do even the smallest thing for yourself. You lost your independence, your freedom. Nothing you say or do is your own. You’re paralyzed. Your body belongs to someone – or something – else.”

He looks at her. She nods and sits down on the edge of the bed, gently massaging his fingers.

“My dad was a POW, of sorts. He battled cancer for many years. And no matter what he did, how hard he tried, the cancer always got the upper hand. His mind was still all there, but his body was wasting away, and he couldn’t take care of himself anymore. That part was worse for him than any pain he suffered.”

And suddenly he squeezes her hand and pulls it down to his face to kiss it clumsily.

She can’t help but cry at his gesture.

“Why am I even here, Everett? I’ve known you for a month. I sit here every day, and I don’t know who I am, or who you are, and what that makes us. I’m scared, Everett. I’m scared that maybe I’m just here because of my father. Some misplaced version of survivor’s guilt, I don’t know – maybe a way to make things right, to save someone, when I couldn’t save him.”

She wipes her face on her sleeve.

“I don’t want that, Everett. I don’t want you to play the role of the father that survives the cancer, I don’t want you to be some sort of substitute for someone who died many years ago.”

“Hey,” he interrupts her. She looks at him.

“I’m sorry, Everett. I didn’t mean to dump on you like that. This isn’t about me, anyway.”

He moves his hand, nearly hits her with his jerky movement but manages to touch her arm. She wraps her fingers around his again.

“You… hur… hur…” He rolls his eyes in frustration, then tries again. “You… hurt… too.”

She smiles under her tears. “Yeah, I guess I do,” she admits. “Maybe it’s something I have to deal with. I thought I already did. But I guess I have a long way to go.”

“Sha… shave.”

“Want me to try again?”

“Yes.”

She squeezes his hand. “Okay. Just – look at me. Maybe that helps.”

She applies more foam to his face and neck and this time they manage to finish the process. His breathing still sounds stressed to her, but he stays with her the entire time, never taking his eyes off her.

She wipes the rest of the foam off his cheeks, then soaks a corner of the cloth with the witch-hazel and carefully dabs his skin with it. Then she puts her supplies away.

He smiles at her.

“You look fabulous,” she says. “Does that feel better to you?”

“Yes. Than… k… you.”

“I’m glad. I’m happy to do it again any time. It’s such a little thing, but it makes a big difference.” She reaches over and carefully replaces his oxygen line. Then she rinses the towels and hangs them up to dry.

“There now. All done.”

He falls asleep again minutes later.

She sits and looks at him, and except for the baldness he has nothing in common with her dad. Her dad was very tall – almost six-foot-five, blond and blue-eyed, slender and still almost dainty, whereas Everett is maybe five-foot-nine, dark-haired and brown-eyed, broad-shouldered and well-muscled. And yet she can’t help but see the similarities between them – their quick smile, the sparkle in their eyes, their warmth, even their laugh. And it scares her to death.

“I would give anything to have my dad back,” she whispers. “But I don’t want him to be you. I want you for what you are, who you are.  With all your demons. Bring them on. I’ve been in some pretty dark places myself. I’m sure none of them were as bad as yours, but I understand, I do.”

She looks at his hand, his crippled pinkie, and she’s both fascinated and terrified. As much as she wants to know what happened she knows she’s probably better off not knowing. And she remembers the feeling of his fingers inside of her, and desire flashes through her like a jolt of electricity. She wants him again, wants him deep within, his soft lips, his hooded eyes, his shuddering breath, his mouth on her.

She blushes, carefully pulls the blanket over the aircast on his right foot, then pulls out her book. She wants to be there when he wakes, so he won’t have to look at an empty sterile room all alone.

oOo

He’s still asleep when Dr. Brightman returns. Tamara looks up, places her finger across her lips. Brightman nods and closes the door quietly.

“Major Greene will be here tomorrow, so you can sign your life away for the mid-level clearance. I thought maybe you want to discuss it with him first.”

“Of course,” Tamara nods. “I’d never do anything against his will.”

“Oh, you managed to shave him? He looks great!”

Tamara smiles. As Dr. Brightman sits down with a sigh she tells her about how she learned to shave bedridden men. They converse in a whisper and again Tamara has the uncanny feeling that she’s known someone all her life, even though she’s only met her a few weeks ago.

“I’m going back to the Springs tomorrow,” Brightman says. “He seems to be in good hands here, and I’ll be only a phone call away.”

“What about the paramedics who are filling in for me?”

“Oh, the General said to keep them here for another couple of weeks. Like you, they really like it here, so they don’t seem to mind, plus I’m sure the little bonus he’s thrown in doesn’t hurt.”

Tamara gapes at her.

“He was Everett’s CO at the time, remember? And O’Neill is loyal to his people to a fault.”

“I’ll have to thank him.”

Brightman shrugs. “You can if you want. I’m sure it will be appreciated.”

“Do you happen to have his address?”

“He’s at the Pentagon. Jack O’Neill. They’ll find him.”

“With… two Ls,” comes Everett’s voice from the bed. The women look over and he smiles.

“Hey there,” Dr. Brightman says. “I was just telling TJ that I’ll be heading back to the Mountain tomorrow. But don’t you worry – I’ll be back in a jiffy if you need me. Okay?”

“Say… say… h-hi to Wal-Wal… ter.”

“Will do. Now, I want to check you over, and then we need to run another set of scans; Dr. Siegler is already waiting for you.”

She hands her clip board to Tamara. “Would you mind jotting down the data?”

Together, they finish the routine physical in a short time. While Everett is gone Tamara takes the time to grab a sandwich in the Cafeteria. When she returns to his room, Adam Brody is there with a woman with long dark hair who looks vaguely familiar. “I’m Lisa Park,” the woman says, holding out her hand.

“Oh, right – with Maggie and Prissy!”

Lisa laughs.

“Actually, mine are Maggie and Isla. Maggie and Prissy go with Dr. Fisher. Not that it matters!”

She pulls out a list of names.

“Adam and I have collected names of volunteers at the tavern. People who want to sit with Colonel Young for some time so you can go out and get some sleep and get food, you know, do real life stuff. I have their schedules and everything. If you want to give me times when you want to be out of here, one keystroke on my computer will get us a list of available volunteers, and another notifies them via email, twitter and text message.”

Tamara is speechless. Brody leans in.

“She’s a wizard with stuff like that.”

“I don’t know what to say… you guys are incredible!”

Lisa hands her a card. “Just let me know what times are good for you – I’ll handle the rest.”

“Well, let me check with the doctors, see what they think.”

“Oh, and I have plenty of night owls and insomniacs on there, so overnights are no problem,” Lisa points out. “If you want to get some actual sleep.”

“Simmer down, girl,” Brody mutters. “Let’s go see him. Is he allowed to receive visitors?”

“I’m sure he would love to see you, but he’s getting some scans done right now.”

“Oh, of course. Well, if you can show him the list? Maybe discuss things with him?”

“I sure will. Thank you so much!”

Lisa hands her the list and hugs her, and Brody holds out a brown paper bag with a wink. “Night cap,” he says. Lisa snickers, and the two of them leave.

oOo

It’s late in the evening when Everett is returned to his room, asleep. Dr. Brightman points at the curtained closet next to the sink. “There’s a rollaway in there, so if you want to stay, at least there’s something more comfortable than a visitor’s chair.”

And then she’s alone with him.

She watches him sleep for a while, then she pulls out the cot and unfolds it next to his bed. Everett wakes up and watches her.

“Slee… slee… slee…” He huffs in frustration. She looks at him and waits. “Sleep?” he finally manages.

“If you don’t mind,” she nods. “I’ll just go find the little girl’s room real quick and brush my teeth – maybe we’ll get some shut-eye?”

“Good,” he says.

She hurries down the hall to the bathrooms and back.

He pats the sheets next to him, and she lowers the railing and sits down on the edge of his bed.

“You know that Dr. Brightman got me a mid-level clearance – whatever that is – right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, a Major Greene will come in tomorrow to get me to sign for everything _but_ a washer and dryer, it seems. I still… I want to know if it’s okay with you. I promised you that you would never have to tell me, and I guess this way you won’t for sure… but I won’t sign anything or accept any information if you don’t want me to. It’s not for me to say, you know.”

“You need… to…. to… know.”

“All right. If that’s what you want.”

He looks scared again.

“Don’t… leave.”

“You think it’s that bad?”

He nods.

“I won’t. I promise. I didn’t leave my dad either. And I won’t leave you. Because I want to be with you. And I want to do again, what we did at the wedding. What you did. I want that every day of my life, if you’re willing. And I want to give to you whatever it is you need from me.”

She leans closer to him.

“Chances are I’ll love it, too.”

He bites his lip, then smiles, and it’s the happiest smile she’s seen from him since before the accident. She hesitates for a moment, then pulls up her shirt and unhooks her bra.

“Give me your hand,” she says. His eyes widen as she leads him by the wrist while he tries to move his arm. “Here,” she whispers, and places his hand on her naked breast. He swallows hard, but his eyes never leave hers as she moves his palm and fingers over her nipples which harden in response to his clumsy caress. She places her hand over his and holds it there, feeling the stiff pinkie pressing into her soft flesh. Then she moves to support his forearm, lets him touch her as he pleases. He finally closes his eyes as he seems to concentrate on the sensation.

“I love it when you touch me,” she breathes. “And you feel so good to me. I can’t get enough of you.”

Finally he looks at her, then at his hand.

“Hold on,” she says, toes off her shoes and shimmies out of her jeans. She takes off her shirt and bra, then slips into a t-shirt and shorts that she’s brought along. And then she turns off the bedside lamp and climbs up on the bed next to him, pulling up the blanket.

Taking his hand into hers again she slides it up under her shirt, nestling it between her breasts.

“Good night, Everett,” she says, curling up against his shoulder.

He turns his head and kisses her hair.

It’s the last thing she remembers before she falls asleep.

oOo

She wakes to the sight of his wide smile and warm brown eyes. It’s dawn, and there is just barely enough light in the room to see, so she must have slept for several hours. She reaches out and touches his cheek.

“Hey, you,” she says.

“Tamara,” he says, without so much as a stutter. She props her head up on her elbow.

“You been practicing?”

He smiles, nodding at his hand. “Hand… asleep.”

She sits up. “Oh goodness, I’m so sorry! Here…” She pulls out his hand, gently massaging the stiff fingers. Everett grunts and scrunches his eyes shut.

“Pins and needles?”

He nods. She keeps rubbing his hand, encourages him to move his fingers. He has some mobility in the crippled finger, but not much. She strokes his hand.

“Poor pinkie,” she says. He nods. And then she lifts his hand and takes his pinkie into her mouth, sucking on it, pulling gently, swirling her tongue around it. He watches her open-mouthed, eyes wide.

“There’s more where that came from,” she grins. “But not now. They’ll be here soon with your meds and checkups. I’d better get dressed.”

She pulls on her jeans and then hands him the list Lisa gave her.

“Lisa Park put together a visitor schedule, so you never have to be alone. I have to go wash up at some point, and do some laundry, check in at the dispatch, and I need to meet with Major Greene.”

“Now?”

“Well, I was thinking, you’ll be pretty busy this morning, so I guess I can get all of this stuff taken care of and be back early afternoon, maybe?”

He looks sad.

“Listen, I’d stay here 24/7 if I could. But I can smell myself, and that means you can, too, and so can everyone else. Lisa will send people by, so you won’t be bored. Besides, you need a clean-up, too, and I guess they’ll want you to get started with a speech therapist and physical therapy pretty soon.”

He sighs.

“But I’ll be back, okay? And I’ll bring some things so I can stay here more comfortably.” That earns her a smile.

“All right.” She lifts the bed railing up again, and a short time later the morning staff comes around and collects him for a bath.

Tamara waves as he’s wheeled away. Then she texts Lisa and immediately gets a cheerful “No problem!” message back.

oOo

She leaves the hospital reluctantly and walks home, deep in thought. She feels as if she’s on the verge of a big change in her life, a new journey she hasn’t been ready to start until now. And she understands with sudden clarity that it’s not just about Everett, but about herself as well. He saw her pain when she herself never had acknowledged it. She has to admit that he’s on to something there. Maybe she, too, has some healing to do.

She cleans her apartment, takes a shower, does some laundry, buys groceries, checks in at the dispatch and delivers a big box of donuts to the ready room. Her colleagues all seem to be out on calls. She checks the roster – the main unit is standing by at a street festival, the secondary unit is on the way back from a minor playground injury.

She leaves a note with the donuts and wanders back up to the hospital.

Passing the cafeteria she spots Dr. Brightman finishing up a cup of coffee. She waves her over.

“If you have a few minutes, I can fill you in on the clearance issues.”

“Okay, sure.”

“Let me just page Major Green so he can get you to sign the appropriate forms. We can use the little consultation room one floor down. Go grab a coffee for yourself, and I’ll meet you there.”

She can’t help but feel apprehensive about the whole thing, and she nearly spills her coffee, her hands are shaking so badly.

Major Green is a friendly looking officer, carrying a thick folder of documents.

“I need to sign all that?”

“No, of course not. Please, have a seat. I need you to sign this non-disclosure agreement first, as you might gain knowledge of issues pertaining to national security. Please read the document carefully.”

Tamara feels like she’s in some weird spy movie, and in signing the agreement she will get sucked into a world of subterfuge and secrets. But Greene hands her several more forms that say more or less the same thing – background checks, criminal records, proof of citizenship.

She signs everything. She has nothing to hide.

And then she’s told about Everett’s team having been captured by enemy forces, and how he offered up himself in exchange for his teammates’ lives. She learns how the local regent took a shining to the colonel and incorporated him into her personal collection of men, bestowing the title of “divine consort” onto him.

“He was forced to ejaculate at least three times a day, through invasive mechanical means and electro-stimulation. And in between he was on call to perform oral intercourse. Rape appears to have occurred many times along with it. After about six months the regent was attacked by a rival and Colonel Young was severely injured in the process. He managed to escape and was found by an exploration team who returned him to us, basically to die. He survived and made a complete physical recovery, but the damage was done. He took early retirement due to PTSD.”

She stares at Dr. Brightman in abject misery, tears streaming down her face.

Suddenly she understands what she really asked of him at the wedding, and she just wants to crawl into a hole and disappear.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, TJ. It might explain a lot of his quirks and idiosyncrasies to you. Mostly what he needs is time to heal, and people who won’t judge him.”

“Oh damn, I’m so sorry,” she whispers brokenly. “I had no idea.”

“As you can imagine, this is a difficult subject for him to talk about, and knowing that you know now will make for some awkward situations, but it will prevent further trauma on your behalf and help you understand what he’s going through. On top of it all, his wife also left him shortly after he was released from the hospital. She filed for divorce – she never signed on as legal guardian – and he was left to care for Matthew on his own. I suspect it was very much the other way round, actually.”

Major Greene gets up.

“Please contact me if you have any questions. Again, let me remind you that Colonel Young’s case is connected to matters of national security.”

“I understand,” she nods.

“You can always talk to me,” Dr. Brightman says. “If something comes up, just in case.”

“Where did all of this happen? And when?”

“The location is classified. As for the time frame – his capture was close to five years ago. Again, thank you for your cooperation, Ms Johansen.” He nods at her and leaves.

Tamara wipes her face.

“I can’t believe I did that to him,” she whispers. “I can’t believe he still wants to see me.”

Dr. Brightman smiles.

“I figured you two had already done the deed, at least to some extent… and truthfully, it’s a great sign of his recovery, because as far as I know Everett has not been close to anyone since then. You see, I always knew he would make it through this. Maybe now he believes it, too. You just have to give him time. Take baby steps.”

“Baby steps,” Tamara echoes.

“Don’t treat him like an invalid, TJ. He’s not. He has many demons to deal with, but he makes his own decisions. And you can help him with that. Let him enjoy it. Let him want it for himself. He’s still all there. He just needs someone who understands.”

“I can do that,” she says, her voice rough.

“He’s a very special man, TJ. I probably know him better than most people. We’ve been good friends for over four years now, and he’s come a long way. His recovery is one of my biggest successes as a medical professional, and as a human being.”

“I suspected forced intercourse or rape… I did some research on it. There’s next to nothing out there, for men having been abused by a woman.”

“He had the constant threat of death hanging over him. He had no choice but to comply. And like it or not, there are ways you can force a man, and they can’t do a thing about it. The humiliation is beyond comprehension. It wasn’t even classic torture as such – nobody cared about military secrets or information. This was strictly personal.”

Tamara closes her eyes, sees his haunted look when she asked him to fuck her, how he wanted to – and couldn’t, how he desired her and hated himself for it.

A lot of it makes sense to her now.

“Thank you,” she finally says. “I’ll do whatever I can, what little that may be.”

“Oh, I think it’s quite a lot, and you’ve already accomplished so much. Perhaps now you can see his changes better.”

Her cell phone rings.

“Brightman.”

She listens, gets up in alarm. “I’ll be right there,” she says and hangs up. “Come. Everett’s having a seizure.”

Her heart drops into her stomach as she gets up and follows the doctor. They hurry down the hall and up the stairs to the CT scan prep room. Tamara stays by the door, watches in terror as nurses and doctors run and shout, and she catches a glimpse of Everett, sees the blood-stained bandage on the top of his head. He lies very still, eyes staring blankly ahead, and for one terrifying moment she thinks he’s dead. And in the same moment she feels a sudden, strong connection to him, something intangible, something so intense that she knows if he dies now her heart will stop beating as well. It scares her more than she can fathom, and yet, she feels strangely calm, as if everything would be all right, because they would end it all together.

“All right, let’s get him in there,” one of the doctors says, and he’s quickly pushed into the darkened room and the doors close.

Dr. Brightman comes out a few minutes later, a little pale-faced.

“He’d complained of a bad headache as they were cleaning him up, and then he got very quiet, and he started to seize in the elevator up to here. His head wound is bleeding again, he must have hit something, and so is the site of the ventriculostomy. The scan will tell us more but I suspect a ruptured blood vessel.”

Tamara reaches for a chair and sinks down into it.

“That’s bad,” she says.

 Brightman nods. “Yes, it’s a big setback. But if it’s at the site of the cath entry the hole in his skull probably just saved his life.” She sits down next to her and takes her hand.

“Hey, he’s still with us. Remember, he’s a fighter. We’ll see if it’s a rupture, we’ll deal with it, and he goes back into ICU until we know more.”

Tamara nods.

It seems like forever, but finally one of the doctors emerges from the room and quietly converses with Dr. Brightman. She nods at Tamara.

“Just like I thought. I need to get down to the OR. Go ahead to ICU. We’ll see you there.”

She watches as if in a bad dream as he’s wheeled past her, already on a portable ventilator again. She bites her lip to keep from crying. A friendly young nurse leads her back down to the ICU and then brings her some hot chocolate. She remembers to send a text message to Lisa.

And then she sits and waits, staring blankly at the wall.

She falls asleep, with nightmares of broken bodies and Everett in chains.

oOo

“Hey,” a soft voice wakes her. She opens her eyes and recognizes the doctor from when she first arrived at the hospital.

“Dr. Tyman?”

“Alison – Dr. Brightman – says the surgery went well. Colonel Young was lucky he was on his way to the CT scan when he had the seizure. It should all be taken care of now. He’ll be in a room in a little while – you can go on over, he’ll be right across from the duty desk.” He smiles encouragingly.

“Thank you,” she says, and then she breaks into tears.

Tyman hands her a tissue.

“He’ll be fine. Dr. Brightman is the best there is. He’ll be out for a little while, but we dodged the bullet here, and he should be okay. We’ll know more when he wakes up.”

“Okay,” she sniffles, then gets up and he walks her over to the empty room. Minutes later Everett arrives with a small army of nurses and doctors who hook him back up to the ventilator and transfer leads and sensors to the equipment.

He looks pale.

As soon as she feels she’s not in the way she goes up to him and takes his right hand, cradling it against her chest.

“You’ve got to beat this, Everett,” she begs. “You’ve been through far worse. I know now. And I think you’re the bravest man on Earth.”

She watches his chest rise and sink in tune with the softly hissing ventilator.

And she falls asleep, her cheek against the bed rail.

oOo

She wakes up when a nurse accidentally bumps into her arm.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she mumbles and moves aside, making room for two more orderlies.

“Dr. Brightman looked in a minute ago, it looks like he’s coming out of it.”

She jumps up and rushes to his side.

“Everett?”

His eyelids flutter, then he looks at her with panic in his eyes. He coughs.

“All right now,” the nurse says soothingly. “You’re on a ventilator. Just relax for a moment and we’ll get the breathing tube out.” She disconnects the hose as he coughs again and wheezes. “Juuust a second, okay?”

Tilting his head back she quickly and efficiently removes the tube. Everett retches and whimpers.

“There, all done.” She waves at Tamara.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she smiles. “You had a seizure – some sort of aneurism. It’s all better now.”

His eyes lock onto her and he smiles just a little.

“Welcome back,” the nurse says. “I’ll send for Dr. Brightman.”

Tamara takes his hand and kisses it, trying hard not to cry and failing nonetheless.

“I was so scared,” she says quietly. “I was just so, so scared.”

He closes his eyes and drifts off again. The nurse hands her the oxygen mask and she gently places it over his nose and mouth.

She sits and waits, stroking his hand, until Dr. Brightman returns.

“It went really well – he was incredibly lucky. And he’s already back with us, so that’s terrific. He’ll probably sleep for a good long while now. Oh, and there’s another paramedic out there, Barnes, I think, she’s going to drive you home. Obviously I’m not going back to the Springs tonight. So I’ll call you if he wakes up before you get back. Go home – get some sleep. There’s nothing else we can do right now, he needs to rest, and so do you.”

Tamara nods and gets up, following the doctor to the waiting room where Leanne Barnes puts her arm around her shoulders and leads her outside to her car.

“Looks like we get to keep those three loan hunks a few more days,” she jokes. “I heard about what happened. Don’t worry – you take care of your man, we got things covered out there. Cloverdale appears to be on its best behavior – it’s been really quiet since all of this happened.”

She hugs her in front of her door.

“I want to hear all about it,” Leanne says in parting. “But not now. When he’s better. Okay?”

“Okay,” she nods.

And then finally, finally she can let the tears go, in the safety of her bed.

She cries herself to sleep, clutching the little yellow teddy bear to her chest.

oOo

The relentless barking of two dogs wakes her in the morning.

“Hey TJ,” she hears. “It’s Lisa Park. You ready to go back?”

She rushes to the door and is very nearly licked to death by Maggie and Isla. Lisa looks at her and smiles.

“Go get ready. We’ll trot around the block and then come get you. We’ll wait downstairs.”

She takes a shower, gets dressed and grabs a change of clothes and her book. She steps out of the building  just as Lisa rounds the corner, both dogs straining hard on their leashes. Lisa hands Maggie over to her and together they walk down to the hospital.

“You let me know when you need someone to take over, okay? Brody had to add another chalkboard at the tavern for the volunteers to sign up. I’ve sent some people down to clean the house as soon as the forensics team was done, and to mow the lawn and get the mail. Ms Walker next door is making sure the bills get paid. We got things under control here.” She stops. “Listen, now may also be a good time to re-do the upstairs bedroom and bathroom. Sharon will show you some plans. He may need special ADA compliant fixtures and stuff.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Of course not – you’ve been here. So, next time you get a minute let’s take a look with Sharon, and she’ll take care of the rest.”

“Thank you so much,” Tamara says. “I don’t know what I’d do without you all.”

“Hey, we do what we can. I’m on summer break from the university, so I got all the time in the world. I teach astrophysics, by the way.”

“Wow. That’s… that’s awesome! We’ll have to hang out some time.”

“Deal,” Lisa says. “Come on, girls, let’s go back. Have a good day, TJ. Keep us paged.”

“I will,” she promises and then makes her way to the ICU.

In an odd reversal of situations she sees Dr. Brightman napping in a chair as she enters, but she wakes up immediately. “Light sleeper,” she yawns. “There’s been no change, he’s resting comfortably. Hasn’t woken up since yesterday, not that anyone has seen, at least. I’d say he’s just about ripe for some conscious thought.”

Tamara smiles and sits down.

Brightman nods. “Well, I’ll go sleep, then. If he wakes up be sure to call the nurse.”

“Of course.”

But just as she’s about to leave he sighs deeply and opens his eyes, looking around in confusion.

“Well, hello,” Brightman says and quickly checks his pupils. “Looking much better today. Are you in pain right now?”

“Mmhmm.”

“All right – is that ’mmhmm’ as in yes or ‘mmhmm’ as in no?”

“Nuh… no.”

“Good. Your painkillers are working then. What about the foot or the ribs?”

“No.”

“Excellent. No wonder you slept so well. So, you know the routine: they’ll come and get you for more scans, and then we’ll try to move you into a normal room again. Does that sound good?”

“Yeh.”

“Anything else?”

“Cath… cath…”

“You want the catheter out?”

“Yes.”

“Is it hurting you?”

He shakes his head slightly.

“I know you hate them. I’ll talk to the nurse, see if she can get you a bottle to pee in or something else instead.”

“Than… you.”

“You’re welcome.”

And minutes later Tamara squeezes his hand before he’s taken out of the room again.

oOo

It’s almost the end of the day before she sees him the next time. He looks tired and frustrated but his face lights up when he sees her.

“We tried to give him some food but he threw it all up again,” the nurse explains, “and now his ribs are hurting, so we’ve changed his IV meds and added some anti-emetics. Hopefully we can get something to stay down later.”

Tamara sighs. She knows all too well how some painkillers tend to cause nausea in trauma patients.

The nurse holds up a small container. “He’s allergic to pectin, so no apple sauce. We’ve rustled up some baby food. Dr. Brightman says it worked great before.” She hands her the jar, a plastic spoon and a towel. “Tag, you’re it.”

Tamara smiles despite herself.

“I’m happy to give it a try when he’s ready.”

She puts everything on the bedside table and sits down next to him, taking his hand as the nurse waves and leaves.

He looks at her calmly.

She bites her lip, then suddenly on impulse she gets up and pulls down the bed railing. She removes his mask and takes his face in her hands, bending close so he can hear her.

“I was so scared when I saw you like that. I thought you were dead. Oh, I’m so glad you’re back.”

And then she gently touches his lips with hers. When she looks at him again there’s a tear running out of the corner of his eye. She kisses it, marveling at the salty, almost bitter taste. She knows it’s the meds, and she strokes his cheeks with her thumbs.

She can feel the back of his hand against her arm and moves to take it into her hands, kissing his fingers, pressing his hand against her face.

“I heard what happened, Everett.” She swallows hard. “I’m so sorry I put you through this, at the wedding. I had no clue, I couldn’t… I just want you to know that I admire you, and that you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. And I want you to get well. I want you to get out of here, so we can be together – that is, if you want. I can’t imagine my life without you in it anymore. I’ll ask for a transfer to Cloverdale. I want to be with you.”

He looks at her with big eyes.

She smiles. “You may not understand this, and - and I don’t think I do, either. But I know you’re my soulmate. I knew it the moment I thought you were dead.”

He gasps.

“I… I… know.”

“You knew?”

“At… wed... wed… mmhmm… wed… ding.”

“Is that what you told Matt and Dr. Brightman?”

He blushes ever so slightly.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” She smiles. “Wow. Oh, wow.”

And she leans in again and kisses him, and he smiles against her lips.

She sits up, sniffles, wipes her face.

“Whew.” She laughs a little.

“It took me a long time, didn’t it?”

He just smiles.

“Well, so… ummm… Oh, wanna try the –“ she checks the label of the jar – “carrots and peas?”

He nods.

She opens the jar and puts a small amount of the creamy concoction on the spoon. He takes it and swallows.

“Let’s give it a minute, okay? See if you can keep it down. Don’t worry, though – if you need to hurl, go ahead. Here.” She drapes the towel over his chest – and not a second too soon, as he coughs and retches and spits it back up. She wipes his mouth.

“Wanna wait? Or try again?”

“Tr… try.”

“Okay.”

The second spoonful stays down, and so does the next. He manages to eat about half of the contents of the small jar, then turns his face away.

“Enough?”

“Yes.”

She closes the jar and puts it back on the tray.

“Let me know if you have to throw up again.”

His eyes are starting to close and she pats his shoulder. “Go sleep now. I’ll be right here.”

And he’s gone again.

She carefully replaces his breathing mask. He doesn’t wake.

oOo

“It worries me that he’s sleeping so much.”

“No, actually, that’s a good thing. Twenty to twenty-two hours a day are perfectly normal for someone in his condition. The brain can’t be fixed like a broken bone – it needs to heal itself. And it does so best during sleep cycles.”

Tamara nods. “That makes sense. I want to know so much more about it. How brain injuries happen. The secondary injuries you were talking about. How it all fits together.”

“Sadly, we still know surprisingly little about the brain as such. Granted, research is progressing by leaps and bounds, but by and large it’s still quite a mystery.”

“I want to go on to med school,” she says. “Now I know, more than ever. This is what I want to do. Brain trauma. Help people like him.”

Dr. Brightman squeezes her hand.

“I can certainly help you with the applications. You already know so much from the paramedics training. I think you’d be very good at it, too. But right now, let’s go eat something.”

They go to have lunch at a nearby fast food place. Everett is being watched over by his neighbors Camile and Sharon, and Brody’s nephew Philip is waiting his turn.

“Well, hello Ladies – I was told I’d find you here.”

They look up and Sheriff Telford gestures at a chair. “Mind if I sit down?”

“Please,” Brightman says.

“I got the report from the forensics team. Whoa, don’t panic, nobody suspects any foul play, but I still had to investigate since there were no direct witnesses,” he says, pulling out a manila folder from his briefcase.

“It looks like he was upstairs, putting away supplies from a store run when he picked up a pack of CFLs, got up and hit the corner of the open cabinet door straight-on. The impact caused the deep head wound and skull injury which made him lose his balance, and he fell down the stairs head first. By all evidence he should have broken his neck and died. Damn, I guess it just wasn’t his time to go yet. Again.”

Tamara shudders. “Ouch,” she says.

“That’s consistent with my assessment,” Brightman nods. “Except for the bit about the CFLs. That I couldn’t tell from his injuries.”

Telford chuckles.

“Anyway, if you’d both please sign here, then we can file this stuff with the closed cases.”

They do and he takes his leave, tipping his hat at them.

Tamara looks after him thoughtfully.

“He seems like a decent guy,” she muses, “but something about him rubs me the wrong way.”

“Like what?”

Tamara shrugs. “I can’t put my finger on it. Something to do with Everett. Like there’s some history. I don’t know.”

Brightman laughs. “Well, I’m sure someone in this town can tell you.”

They walk back to the hospital together and Dr. Brightman wanders on to do some paperwork. As Tamara reaches Everett’s room she sees Brody in conversation with a tall redhead. “I’m here with Philip,” Brody jerks his thumb at the door. “TJ, this is Emily Harrison.”

Tamara holds out her hand. “Nice to meet you. Are you on Lisa’s list?”

Emily takes her hand, then shakes her head and Brody makes a walking gesture with his fingers and goes into the room.

“I’m Everett’s ex-wife,” Emily says. “I heard what happened, and I was in town on business so I thought I’d stop by.”

“Oh.” Tamara isn’t sure what to say. “Would you like to see him?”

Emily barks out a short laugh. “I’m not sure he’ll want to see me… Can we go sit down somewhere?”

Tamara gestures at a few chairs down the hall.

“I don’t know how much he’s told you about us. Brody says you’re taking care of him right now, so I thought maybe you should know.”

“I know he’s divorced,” Tamara replies and sits down next to her.

“I had an affair early during our marriage, after he adopted Matthew. I guess I acted up. We couldn’t have children – we’re what they call ‘genetically incompatible’ – and we both wanted kids. Everett had his kid, I wanted mine. So, I hit on the town sheriff.”

“Sheriff Telford?” Tamara gapes at her.

“Yes. I take it you’ve met him.”

“He was at Matt’s wedding. And I just saw him earlier this afternoon.”

Emily shrugs. “He’s Everett’s friend. And Everett forgave us both. David’s been trying to make up for it ever since. Me, I’m not a one-guy kind of woman. And when he was MIA I filed for divorce. He’d gone missing before but never for this long. I thought this time for sure he wasn’t going to come back.”

“But he did come back.”

“Yes. And I tried to stick it out, but he was a total wreck, and he started drinking, and I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I left. He didn’t contest the divorce.”

Tamara can’t bear to look at her. On the one hand she despises Emily for leaving him in such a time of need, but then again she also knows that not everyone is cut out for such tragedy, and somehow she can’t blame her.

“You hate me for that,” Emily says quietly.

“No, I don’t. I just can’t understand it, that’s all.”

“Of course not. You don’t know what it’s like to always come second after his job. Him being gone all the time. Then coming back and being unable to talk about anything. And I was stuck with Matt in the meantime.”

“That must’ve been tough,” Tamara admits.

“Yeah, well. We’re history. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about him. I really do, and I hope he gets better. I just wanted to tell somebody. So maybe you can tell him I was here.”

“Why don’t you go in and see him?”

“I don’t know… I think he might get too upset or something. Just… just tell him I stopped by, and I wish him the best.”

“Do you have a number where I can contact you?”

Emily shakes her head. “It’s best if you don’t know.” She gets up. “Goodbye, Ms Johansen. I hope you can be a better friend to him than I was. He deserves more – more than I could ever do for him.”

She walks away without looking back. Tamara watches her, deep in thought.

Telford. Her suspicions about the man were not unfounded. He always just seemed a little too nice, like he was trying too hard. It makes sense to her now.

Brody comes out of the room, looks around and spots her. “He’s awake,” he says.

Tamara rushes back to the room and sees young Philip talking to him.

“…and I can’t remember a thing, either,” Philip says. “Is that a sports drink in your IV? Are you getting your electrolytes?”

Everett smiles and nods. “Yes,” he says. “Some… some… thin… like… like… th-that.”

Tamara smiles – it’s the longest sentence she’s heard him say since it all happened.

He spots her and smiles widely. “Hey,” he breathes.

“Come on, Philip, time to head out,” Brody says, grabbing his nephew’s arm.

“Hey, it’s Ms Johansen,” Philip grins. “What is it with you and seizures, huh?”

Tamara laughs. “You doin’ okay?”

“Yes ma’m. Want another PBJ?”

“Sure, next time you’re coming over?”

“Okay. Get well soon, Colonel Young. Soccer practice just isn’t the same without you. Bye!”

And he and Brody leave.

Tamara steps closer and lowers the bed railing. “Hey, beautiful,” she smiles and kisses him gently. His lips respond to her caress and for a long time she loses herself in their sweet exchange.

“Are you hungry?”

“Mmhmm. Litt… litt-le.”

“Let’s see what we’ve got. Banana-blueberry?”

“Uh-huh.”

She opens the jar and stirs, then removes his breathing mask. “I’ll ask the nurse for an oxygen line. It’ll be easier.” She drapes a towel over his chest. After the first two spoonfuls she sets everything aside and wipes his mouth.

“Let’s see if you can keep it down first, before we try more. Blueberries stain like crazy.”

He nods. She reaches for the call button and when the nurse arrives she asks for the oxygen line. “Of course,” the elderly woman says and within minutes the line has been installed. “Let’s keep the mask here, just in case, and for overnight.”

“Pee,” Everett says, and Tamara looks discreetly to the side as the nurse replaces his urine bottle.

“There, you’re all set now. Call me if you need anything.” And she leaves.

“More food?”

Everett nods.

She slowly feeds him the rest of the jar. “I ran into Sheriff Telford today,” she mentions casually, “The forensics team finished their report.”

“Mmhmm?”

“Seems you were picking up a box of CFLs when you crashed your head into the open cabinet door above you, cracked your skull and fell down the stairs.”

“Yes… C… F… L…”

“You remember the light bulbs?”

“Yes. Bou-bought.”

“That’s good. What else did you buy?”

“Food.”

“Yes, it was on the kitchen counter when I came in. Do you remember anything else?”

“Laun… laund…”

“Laundry? You were doing laundry?”

“Yes.”

“That’s right – the basket was still there, too. Well, look – a happy jar!”

She puts the container aside and carefully wipes his mouth.

“You need another shave. Wanna try that tomorrow?”

He nods, then looks at her.

She smiles mischievously. “You want dessert?”

“Mmhmm?”

“Hold on.” She gets up and puts the “Please knock before entering” sign on the doorknob.

He watches her as she sits down on the side of his bed and unbuttons her shirt. His eyes widen as she pushes up her sports bra.

“How about one of those? Or both.”

Everett stares, then smiles.

“Yes.”

She leans forward and kisses him, tasting the fruit in his mouth. “Mmhmm, yummy,” she says. “That must’ve been fantastic!”

She leans closer and cups her right breast, touching it to his lips. He opens his mouth and closes his eyes as his lips nuzzle her nipple, then he latches on and suckles gently. She moans as the heat goes straight to her groin. She reaches for his right hand and places it on her left breast. He sucks harder, grazing her soft flesh with his teeth, and her breath hitches at the sharp sensation of pleasure-pain.

“Oh damn,” she exhales, moving his hand in circles over her breast.

He releases her, licks her nipple, and she turns her body so he can reach her left breast. Reaching for his hand again she takes his crippled pinkie in her mouth and sucks on it. His soft lips, stroking tongue, his teeth on her make her shudder with desire. She can feel herself getting wet, feels a pulsing need between her legs, and then, completely unexpectedly, she comes, breathing hard, squeezing his hand.

“Oh damn,” she cries out, “Oh… oh, man.”

She braces herself as her hips rock in hard contractions.

She feels him letting go and sits up, her face flushed, eyes sliding shut.

“So beau… beau… tiful…” she hears him whisper and looks down at him.

His eyes are big and dark, glistening with unshed tears. She kisses him hard, deeply, pushing her tongue into his mouth, licking him. He responds shyly, sweetly.

She pulls back, feels the tears run down her cheeks.

“You made me come,” she says, her voice trembling. “Oh, Everett…”

And she buries her face against his neck, kissing his skin, breathing in his scent, feeling his right hand on her back in an uncoordinated attempt to stroke her.

“Shhh,” he soothes her. “I’m… h-here.”

After a long while she pulls back and tugs her bra down over her breasts.

“I’m sorry, Everett.” She buttons her shirt. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“You did.”

“Instead you made me come. With your mouth on my breast! I didn’t think that was even possible.”

He smiles. “Good.”

She sighs. “Did you like it, though?”

“Yes. Yummy.”

She laughs.

“Touché.”

She kisses him again. “If I ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you have to let me know, okay?”

He nods.

“I need you to help me understand the place you’re in. If you don’t want it, then it’s no good for me either. Does that make sense?”

He looks away.

“Everett?”

She gently pushes his head around to make him look at her.

“Everett, if you like the things you don’t want, then you want them. Okay? And it’s totally fine with me. I’m prepared to go to some pretty dark places with you. I’ve got my demons, just like you.”

He looks sad but nods.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. So you like some weird stuff, because when you didn’t have a choice, liking it was easier than hating it, and it helped you survive. Is that it?”

He exhales resignedly. “Yes.”

“All right. I like some weird stuff, too. Lots of it, in fact. And it’s really only weird for those who don’t dare to acknowledge who they are. I’m so over that.”

She wipes her face.

“I dream about you tying me up and fucking me until I scream. That’s weird, isn’t it?”

His breath hitches. “No.”

She smiles. “And I would do the same to you if you asked. There’s nothing wrong with any of it. So – would you like that? Tie me up and fuck me until I scream?”

He squirms. “Yes,” he finally admits.

“Would you like me to do the same to you?”

His lips are quivering and the tears start rolling down his face.

“Everett? Is that what you like? What you want?”

“Yes,” he nods.

She wipes his face with a corner of the towel.

“It’s a deal, then. You get better, and I promise you, I’ll do whatever it is you want me to do, and you can do whatever you want to me. I can guarantee you, I’ll love it, every second of it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She kisses him gently.

“Remember when you told me about ‘the other guy’ that wasn’t you?”

He nods.

“For better or worse, he’s now part of you. And now I know that I’ll adore him as well.”

He smiles a little.

“Now, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

She rummages in her bag, holds up a brightly colored tube. He squints at it.

“Kiddie toothpaste! You can swallow it.”

“Oh! Good!”

She pulls out a toothbrush, squirts some of the pink paste onto it and fetches a cup of water from the sink. “Yeah, I hate cotton mouth, too. One of my dad’s doctors told me about this trick, when you can’t lean forward to rinse your mouth. Astronauts have a similar version, by the way. They swallow their toothpaste, too.”

He opens his mouth as she carefully brushes his teeth, then gives him a sip of water. He swallows it, then smiles.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Shave tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

She quickly changes into her shorts and t-shirt again as his eyes begin to slide shut. By the time she’s finished washing her face and brushing her teeth he’s fast asleep. She slips out to the bathroom, then removes the oxygen line and places the mask over his nose and mouth and carefully stretches out next to him on the bed. Placing his hand between her legs she turns off the light and spoons up against him.

She falls asleep within minutes.

oOo

“Colonel, I’m due back at Cheyenne Mountain this afternoon. You’ve made phenomenal progress over the last few days, so I feel relatively safe to return. No more seizures, please, but if anything happens, TJ here will call me right away. I’ll ask for no mission assignments for the next few weeks, so I can be here usually within a few hours.”

Everett nods but looks a little panicked. Dr. Brightman smiles.

“You’re in good hands here. Tyman and Siegler have been fully briefed on your medical history. You’ll be fine. And you’ll go into the skilled nursing unit next, when you don’t need all the monitors anymore. I’ll be back when they move you into rehab or straight home. Would you rather have that?”

“Yes.”

“All right, I’ll arrange for visiting nurses and therapists then.”

“I’ll be there, too,” Tamara chimes in. “I’ll work something out with the dispatch.”

“Well, then. Take care, Everett. It’s good to have you back on the road to normal.”

She hugs him.

“Thanks… for… every… thing,” he says, speaking slowly so as to avoid the stutter, just like the speech therapist has taught him.

“You betcha. TJ?”

The women hug, and then the doctor leaves.

Tamara looks at Everett and smiles.

“I think I might be going back to work next week, maybe for half shifts. What do you think?”

He looks scared but tries to put on a brave face.

“Yes, good,” he says.

“It will only be for 6 hours or so. I’ll see if they can schedule your exams and therapy during that time, a bath and stuff. I couldn’t be there then anyway.”

He nods.

“Hey.” She sits down next to him on the bed and rubs his arms, carefully avoiding the IV line on the left. “Look at it as a milestone. Besides, one of Lisa’s volunteers will be around all the time.”

She hesitates.

“I thought you should know… Emily was here last weekend.”

“Emily?”

“Emily Harrison, formerly Young. Your ex-wife.”

“Oh. How… is… she? Is… she… okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine. She didn’t want to see you, though. She thought it might upset you too much.”

Everett shakes his head. “No. Not upset.”

“She wants you to know she stopped by – she happened to be in town on business, and she wishes you the best and to get well soon.”

Everett nods, deep in thought. “Poor Emily,” he sighs.

Tamara packs her bag.

“You… mad… at her?”

She stops. “I don’t know, Everett. I don’t know her, and I didn’t know you then. I don’t understand her. But I also didn’t live through what she lived through. I know it must have been tough for her.”

“Tough,” he repeats. “Yes.”

And she can feel the waves of regret and self-loathing emanating from him. She takes his hand.

“She’s made her choice, Everett. She didn’t even want to leave a number. Let it go. I know it’s easier said than done. I thought about not even telling you. But it’s not my decision to make – she’s a part of your life, whether I like it or not.”

He smiles at her.

“History,” he says.

“Over and done with.”

She kisses him, and for the first time he’s able to touch her face with his hand on his own. She kisses his crippled finger.

There’s a knock at the door and after a moment Dale Volker pokes his head in.

“Good morning,” he says. “I believe it’s my turn to watch the Colonel sleep?”

Tamara laughs. “Don’t you have a pharmacy to run, Mr. Volker?”

“It’s my day off. I won this slot fair and square.”

“You won it?”

Volker blushes furiously.

“Umm, yeah. Brody has a raffle going with the winners getting to pick their slots first.”

“What?”

“Oh, no, no, no – the money goes to the TBI Research Foundation. It was Ms Wray’s idea.”

Tamara shakes her head. The people of Cloverdale never cease to amaze her.

“Be good now,” she says, squeezing Everett’s hand. “Shave tonight, all right?”

“Yes,” he smiles.

“So, listen, Colonel, the other day Darren Becker walks in – you know, from the Clova. Anyway, he’s putting together a memorial plaque for couples who started dating at the Clova. You won’t believe who all is on it…”

Tamara snickers, as she closes the door on what must surely be some juicy town gossip.

oOo

When she returns late that afternoon there’s a short skinny man waiting outside Everett’s room. Tamara is pretty sure she’s never seen him before.

“Hi,” she says.

He bows curtly to her. “Dr. Nicholas Rush,” he introduces himself, and she notices his thick Scottish accent right away. “Justice of the Peace.”

She shakes his hand. “Tamara Johansen.”

He nods. “I am aware. You pulled Matthew Scott back from the brink of death just before the wedding last month.”

“Well, it wasn’t that heroic,” she smiles. “A bottle of Gatorade did the trick.”

“I tied the knot for him later.”

“Oh! Yes, of course. I don’t remember seeing you there at the reception, though.”

“I left as soon as the ceremony was concluded.”

“Ah. And you volunteered to sit with Everett today?”

Rush squirms. “Not exactly. It was a dare, and I won, so I had to pick a time.” He spreads his hands. “Here I am.”

Tamara smiles.

“Well, I’m here now, so if you’d rather not go in I’ll get you off the hook. It can be our little secret.”

Rush seems relieved.

“I take it you don’t get along so well?”

“Oh, no, no, it’s nothing like that. I have a hospital phobia, that’s all. My wife Gloria passed away with breast cancer a few years ago. This place gives me the willies.”

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Rush. Would you still like to come in and say hi?”

He hesitates, then pulls himself together. “I can do that. For just a moment.”

She accompanies him into the room. Sharon Walker looks up from her book.

“Oh, hey! Are you kicking me out already? Hello, Dr. Rush.”

Rush nods at her, then steps aside to look at Everett. He nods awkwardly at him.

“Rush,” Everett says, completely taken by surprise. “I did not… ex-ex-expect to see… see you.”

Tamara can tell he’s agitated.

“Yes, well…” Rush gestures vaguely. “I just wanted to see how you are and wish you all the best. I’m sorry I can’t stay. You know.”

“I under… stand,” Everett nods. “Thank… thank… you for…coming.”

Rush nods, bows to Tamara and hurries out the door. Sharon closes her book and puts it in her bag. “Well, then,” she smiles. “Have a good day, Colonel, TJ. I believe I’m due back the day after tomorrow. Oh, and he’s already had his dinner. Bye-bye!”

She slips out, leaving a distinctly awkward silence.

Tamara stares after her.

“Okay, what was that all about,” she wonders.

“Long story,” Everett sighs. “Rush lost… his wife. Hates hos-hospitals.”

Tamara sits down next to him and takes his hand. “And?”

Everett winces. “He thinks… Emily… left bec-bec-because I dr… drank.”

“Well, you did back then, but that’s not why she left, is it?”

“No.”

“Then don’t worry about what he thinks.”

“His wife… died.”

Tamara looks at him, then the penny drops. “I get it. Rush blames you for driving your wife away, when he would have given anything to keep – Gloria? Was that her name?”

“Yes.”

She sighs. “I sympathize with him, I really do. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love to cancer. You want to blame the whole world. You blame yourself. You hate people who have what you lost and don’t cherish it.”

He bites his lip.

“But that doesn’t make it better, Everett. You know the truth. And he’s just trying to place the blame on somebody. It’s a normal thing. It’s not fair, and it’s not right, but it’s normal. I’ve been there, too.”

He lifts her hand, kisses her fingers.

“I’m going back to work tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“You sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yes. You need… a life.”

Tamara laughs.

“I like this life just fine. But I don’t want to abuse General O’Neill’s kindness. Even if the three medics he sent really love it here. Oh, and my transfer request was accepted! I’ll be moving to Cloverdale soon.”

He beams at her.

“Okay now – someone around here needed a shave?”

He raises his hand.

She kisses him, runs her hand over his scalp and the gauze pads covering his wounds.

“Your hair is growing quickly. You’ll soon have your curls back. I can’t wait.”

“Mmhmm.”

She gathers her supplies, runs the hot water and soaks the towel. It’s all routine by now, and one she can see he looks forward to. Gone is the trepidation, and she prides herself in that small victory over his bad memories. He can now actually hold the razor himself, but she guides his hand and does everything else.

“I want to watch you shave in the morning,” she murmurs. “I want to see you standing there in the bathroom, naked, or in your shorts, with foam on your face, and I just want to lie there and watch you shave. There. Now you know another one of my wild, crazy fantasies.”

He smiles at her. She feels his arm sag – he still tires easily.

“Want me to finish?” she asks.

“Yes, please.”

And she wants to cheer as he lets her shave him while he just holds still. He’s a tiny bit nervous, she can tell, but he keeps looking at her, and within minutes she’s done.

“Good job,” she praises him, then holds up her small mirror. “Look at that handsome guy.”

He touches his bandages and winces.

“Still hurts,” he says.

“It’ll be a while, too. You have two holes in your skull. It takes time.”

“My foot?”

“I suppose you’ll get a proper cast on it when you go home. Hopefully one of those removable fiberglass jobs, so you can shower. Are the ribs any better?”

“Yes. Only sore now.”

She puts the supplies away and rinses the towel, then hangs it up to dry.

He pats the bed and she sits down, leans in to kiss him. “So smooth,” she says against his lips. “Damn, you’re so gorgeous.” She deepens her kiss and his hand comes up to tangle in her hair.

As she comes up for air she places a finger across his lips.

“Let’s see if you can brush your teeth on your own today.”

He brightens visibly as she prepares the brush and fills a cup with warm water.

The toothpaste goes just about everywhere, but he manages, and she only has to help him a little bit. She holds the cup for him so he won’t spill so much. “Your motor skills are improving so much every day,” she observes. “Your physical therapist is doing a great job with you.”

Wiping his face and hands she kisses him again.

“I’ll be just a minute,” she says. “Can you put your oxygen line back on?”

When she returns from the bathroom he has indeed managed to slip the line over his ears and underneath his nose. She helps him scoot towards the left side of the bed, then sits down next to him.

“I want to try something,” she whispers. “I can’t stop thinking about the other day, when you made me come, just like that. I promise I won’t hurt you, and if I do anything you don’t like or that makes you uncomfortable, just say so. Remember, if you don’t enjoy it, I won’t either.”

“Okay.”

She pulls his blanket aside far enough to expose his right leg, then reaches for a pillow and props up his knee a little. She turns to face him and swings her leg over his, placing her right knee between his legs. Then she carefully settles down so her groin is on his knee.

“Does this hurt?” she asks.

“No. Feels good,” he smiles.

She begins to move her hips, rubbing herself against his knee. He watches her, utterly fascinated by her gentle movements.

“Mmhmm, good,” she sighs, carefully stroking his chest well above his broken ribs.

Then she gets up again as he looks at her questioningly. “Too many clothes,” she explains and pushes her shorts off, then climbs back onto his knee.

She closes her eyes as she rubs her clit against his kneecap, then leans forward, bracing herself.

“Oh damn, Everett,” she moans, biting her lip to forestall the inevitable. She looks at him.

He stares at her open-mouthed, breathing hard. And she reaches for his hand, slips it under her t-shirt and places it on her naked breast. “Yes,” she gasps as she feels his fingers massage her flesh, digging in and squeezing.

She rides his knee harder, feels her own juices coat his dry skin, making it slippery against her movements.

“Tamara,” he breathes. “Go. Go for it.”

And he grabs her breast, tugs her towards him, and she tumbles over the edge as her orgasm makes her hump his leg hard. “Oh fuck,” she wails, “Oh fuck, oh fuck…”

She shudders in hard contractions, as he kneads her breast. Finally her legs give out and she sinks down next to him, dislodging his hand. She keeps moving against his leg, drawing out the pulsing pleasure with strangled breaths.

He reaches for the blanket, pulls it over both of them. She rubs her hand over his knee, spreading the moisture there to dry faster.

“Wow,” she says. He kisses the top of her head and she scoots up as he wraps his arm around her and pulls her close. She pushes herself up and leans over him to kiss him, wet, sloppy, lazy.

“Oh, that was good,” she whispers.

“You’re so… beau… beautiful when… you… c-c-come.”

“Breathe, Everett.”

He nods. “Tamara?”

“Yes?”

“You’re so… hot.” He blows out a breath. “Wow.”

She snickers against his throat.

“I thought you might like that.”

“I could… I could… feel you come… against my… knee… I could feel… it… there.”

“You did?”

He nods. “Amazing.”

She kisses him again. “Well, we’ll have to do this more often then. Maybe on the left knee. I’m just worried I might rip your IV out. But I don’t want to hurt your broken foot either.”

“Would be… worth it.”

“Hmmmm…”

She sits up and pulls out the pillow from underneath his knee, then snuggles up against him. “Mind if I stay like this tonight?”

“Please do.”

She puts her palm on his chest, runs her fingers through the hair there.

“Imagine the things we can do when you feel better. When you can tie me up and fuck me until I scream.”

“Beautiful.”

“Oh, no pressure! Still, I look forward to having you do naughty things to my body – if you want. Or we can have totally vanilla sex. Or I can hump your leg while you watch a soccer game on TV.” She kisses his ear. “Or you can show up at the dispatch and grab my boobies when nobody’s looking. Make me come right there. And I will love it. Love it, love it, love it.”

He chuckles, eyes closed now.

She listens to his breath deepen and even out, then carefully moves off his arm and tucks the pillow underneath her head.

When she finally falls asleep she has the most erotic dreams of her life, most of which involve her being tied up and him fucking her while she screams in ecstasy.

oOo

Her first day back on the job keeps her busy: a bee sting victim going into anaphylactic shock, a fall from a ladder, a mild stroke, a dog bite and a deep laceration.

“They all waited for you to get back,” Barnes teases her, “Word gets around – the three hunks are finally gone, people are relaxing again.”

She touches her name tag with the Cloverdale logo on it, and she’s never been happier strapping a fall victim into a scoop stretcher.

The laceration turns out to be more excitement than anticipated and she ends up starting an IV in the ambulance. She feels energized, on top of her game, thrilled to be helping people.

“I need to find a place to live,” she says as her shift ends.

“You’re not gonna move in with your man?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know – I haven’t asked him.”

“The sex will be a lot more convenient,” Barnes drawls.

“Leanne!”

“Oh, come on TJ, you’re positively glowing. Tell me with a straight face you’re not having sex with him at the hospital.”

She blushes and laughs.

“Guilty as charged.”

“Well, good for you. But if you want to give it some more time, there’s an apartment above the pharmacy that I’m sure Mr. Volker will be eager to rent out.”

“Oh, good to know. I’ll swing by there right now and take a look.”

And Barnes is right – Volker nearly falls over his own feet as he shows her around. It’s a nice place overlooking Main Street, diagonally across from the Clova.

“Anytime you want to move in, just let me know,” Volker says. “If you don’t find anything better, it’s yours. But by all means, shop around. There are of course the apartment complexes in the burbs. I’d ask Brody, or Lisa, or Camile. They’re all pretty well plugged in on who has a place to rent in town. Or check the paper on the weekend.”

“Thanks.”

They shake hands and Volker waves as she gets in her car and drives back to the hospital.

oOo

Everett is asleep when she enters his room.

“He was exhausted, after his physical therapy,” Camile Wray says. “They really must’ve put him through the wringer today. Poor baby.” She puts her knitting away. “Food should be coming in about half an hour. Oh, and I heard you transferred to Cloverdale?”

“Yes,” Tamara smiles. “I’m thrilled!”

“When are you moving?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it… Soon, I guess. Maybe once he’s out of the hospital. There’s so much to organize – it takes time.”

Camile shakes her head, waves her off. “I’ll talk to Hunter Riley – he’s the local computer geek, and his family owns a moving company. They do mostly government documents, contract work, but on the weekends they move regular folks’ stuff. They pack up a place like you wouldn’t believe it – as if you had just moved your rooms elsewhere. They will even move your dust bunnies.”

Tamara laughs, and Everett wakes up.

“Hey,” he says groggily.

“Hey, big guy,” she smiles at him and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Ms Wray and I were talking about my moving here.”

“Ch- check with Hun… Hun… ter Riley.”

“Yeah, I was just told about him.”

“You know what, I’ll swing by his shop on the way home. I need to pick up my laptop anyway. I’ll ask him to contact you. I know he’s been on Lisa’s list but he keeps losing in the raffle. Bye, TJ. Have a good evening, Colonel.”

Tamara turns to Everett. “I can’t believe how nice everyone is here.”

Everett nods. “Good people. H-How was your day?”

She tells him about the cases she worked on and Volker’s apartment.

“You c-c-can have… have… Matt’s r-room,” he stutters, blowing out a breath in frustration.

She sits down and takes his hand. “Breathe, handsome.”

He nods, then smiles.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me around that much, or if this is all going a bit too fast for you. I don’t want to back you into a corner. Why don’t we let them move my junk to Volker’s apartment, and I’ll shack up in Matt’s room if need be, when you get home. We can always decide later what you want to do.”

“Okay.” He looks satisfied.

Right about then a staff member arrives with his dinner and puts a tray table over his lap.

“Thanks, I’ll take it from here,” Tamara says. “Okay, what do we have… it’s still all blender food, so – easy to eat. I think that’s mashed potatoes, this looks like sweet potatoes…” She checks the label on the bottom. “Edamame, that’s the green stuff, and blueberry-peach. Oh, and cranberry juice. That actually sounds pretty darn good. Especially the edamame – lots of protein.”

She hands him the spoon, then supports his arm, so he can feed himself. He finishes almost everything and she puts the tray away.

He stares out the window, his hands moving restlessly.

“What’s wrong, Everett?”

He looks up at her.

“I want to go home.”

She can tell he’s feeling depressed.

“I know. I want you home, too. They said probably next week. But you still need a lot of medication, and it takes time to wean you off it. Some of the stuff you’re getting is pretty darn strong, and they don’t want you on it unsupervised.”

“I want to go home,” he repeats, his voice a mere whisper.

Her heart breaks again, seeing him so sad, and she’s at a loss on what to do.

Finally she just lies down next to him.

“I’m here, Everett,” she says quietly. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

She feels his hand move against her thigh and she slips it between her legs. He turns his head and looks at her with tears in his eyes.

“I don’t deserve you,” he says.

She frowns. “Well, maybe not… but here I am anyway. Because I want to. And I’ll be here for as long as you want me. Forever, I hope.”

He closes his eyes and soon he’s asleep. She watches him and worries. On the one hand she doesn’t want to force herself on him, and on the other hand she’s scared he might push her away out of some misguided sense of open choices.

“Stay with me, Everett,” she whispers. “I need you, too.”

And she wants him so badly right then and there, while his hand rests calmly against her groin. She wants to do the same for him, wants to touch him, make him come. She tries to imagine what he looks like, and the image is almost too much to bear.

She buries her face against his shoulder and weeps quietly.

oOo

She wakes in the middle of the night. He’s moving around a lot – a nightmare, she thinks. She reaches over and takes his left hand to keep him from hitting his IV, and he wakes, sputtering, gasping for air.

“You’re safe, Everett, I’m here and you’re safe,” she soothes. He looks at her and begins to cry. She feels like crying again herself, but instead she kisses him and carefully strokes his chest.

“Bad dream?”

He nods. She wants to ask him what it was but then thinks better of it, gently touching his arms and hands.

“Want me to read something to you? Or we can play ‘I spy’. Or see what’s on TV?”

He shakes his head and sighs deeply.

“Don’t l-leave me, Tamara.”

“I won’t. I promise. Cross my heart.”

That makes him smile a little.

“I was al-alone,” he says. “And I w-was hurting… hurting. And they-they were watching.”

“It was awful.”

“Yes. I was… was so alone.”

She touches his cheek. “But now I’m here. And you’re getting better every day. And soon we’ll go home, and I’ll still be there. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Tell you what. I’ll go to the little girls’ room, and then you can brush your teeth. That’ll make you feel better, I bet.”

She climbs off the bed and grabs her own toothbrush on the way. She washes her face and brushes her teeth, and she feels better now, too.

When she returns he holds out his hand and she gives him the toothbrush. And again she marvels at how much he has improved over the past week alone.

“You’ll be getting up soon, when your brain has rested enough.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Want to try something fun? Get your mind off the bad dreams?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Watch me.”

And she strips for him, slowly, sensuously, sliding her hands over her skin. He watches appreciatively, his eyes big, his lips parted. She takes off her shirt and bra, cups her breasts and plays with them. She pushes down her uniform pants and toes off her sneakers, then shimmies out of her panties, turning, taking her time. Then she climbs on the bed and kisses him hard, deeply.

His hand comes up to stroke her hair.

“Let it down,” she says against his lips. “Let my hair down.”

He pulls out her scrunchie, and her hair falls over her shoulders. She brushes it aside, then takes his hand and sucks his fingers into her mouth.

His breath hitches, as her eyes never leave his.

“Wanna be inside me?”

“Yes,” he gasps.

“I want that, too.”

She spreads her knees and scoots closer, then she moves his hand between her legs. She pushes two fingers into herself, sighing contentedly at the feeling of stretching, adjusting to him.

“Push,” she encourages him, and he rotates his wrist to slip his fingers deeper into her.

“Oh, that’s good,” she breathes.

He bites his lip in concentration as he begins to slide his fingers in and out of her.

“You’re so wet,” he marvels.

“Only for you,” she smiles and moves closer so he can go deeper. She reaches down, pulls his hand away and grabs three fingers, pushing them deep into herself.

“Oh, yes, that’s it.” She rocks her hips to complement the glide of his fingers, kneading her breasts and pushing them up and together.

He moans softly at her obvious pleasure and rotates his hand, placing his thumb next to her clit, rubbing her gently. She suppresses a cry at his skillful manipulation, as he works his thumb and fingers in tandem.

She spreads her knees wider, feels his pinkie rubbing against her ass, and she wants him there, too. The mere thought of it makes her groan out load.

“Yes,” she moans. “Fuck, yes.”

And then she leans forward to kiss him, pushing her tongue deeply into his mouth, mirroring the movement of his fingers inside her. His thumb presses down hard on her clit, and she yelps at the sudden pain which flashes into pleasure immediately. Again, and again, and it drives her insane how the simple touch can keep her hovering on the brink of her release. Suddenly he rotates his wrist, pushing deeply into her, hard. She cries out and then holds her breath as the violent shudders of her orgasm lash her.

Gasping for air she moans loudly, the sound strangled in her throat with every contraction of her inner muscles.

She reaches for his hand, pushes him into herself and holds him there, her hips bucking against him.

“Oh wow,” she hears him say, and she looks up to see his eyes, dark, dilated, wide open.

She bends down to kiss him, and he keeps moving his fingers, slower now, easing up the pressure on her clit.

“Mmhmm.” She licks across his lips, kisses his face all over. “So good. Shit, that was good.”

She props herself up and pulls his hand from her body, moving it to his mouth. He sucks on his fingers, licking off her juices, humming delightedly at her flavor.

“You taste so good,” he manages to get out, then exhales slowly. He smiles at her as she stretches out next to him, her head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around her and pulls her up close.

“You made me hard,” he whispers. She giggles. “Oh, I did at the wedding, too, remember? When we danced?”

“I remember. It doesn’t happen… happen often. But now, it did.”

“Want me to take care of it? I’d love to suck you off.”

He shakes his head. ”All gone now.”

She kisses him again. “Another time, then, okay? Anyway, you are fantastic. I wish I could walk around all day with your fingers inside of me. It feels so good. I’m glad it felt good to you, too.”

“I want to be inside you all – all the time. I wish I could.”

“You will again, soon. Remember? You’re going to tie me up and –“

“Fuck you til you scr-scream,” he finishes for her. “Yes. I want that.”

“And we’ll get there eventually. We have all the time in the world, Everett. We have no deadlines. And there are so many other things we can do. Fun things. Kinky. Really really raunchy, dirty, naughty things.”

“Like what?”

She props her head up on her elbow, drawing small circles on his chest with her fingers.

“I want to feel your pinkie inside me. And up my ass. I want you to play with my ass. I love that. I have a few vibrators that you can have a lot of fun with. I go off like a rocket, I tell you.”

He laughs.

“You like things up… up your ass?”

She nods. “I do.”

He nods. “I want to do that.”

She kisses him again. “Well, then. We’ll do that when we get home.”

He smiles at her. She checks the clock. “We can sleep a couple more hours. I gotta go to work in the morning. You have a full day, too.”

She reaches over him to take the mask. “Pull your line off, so we can get this thing back on you.”

He fumbles for a while but she lets him remove the oxygen hose on his own, then helps him with the mask.

“Go sleep now,” she says, stroking his cheek.

She feels his fingers trail up and down her arm, and she falls asleep herself.

oOo

A tall skinny man stops by at the dispatch center a few days later and is greeted with hugs and shouts of joy. It seems everybody loves Hunter Riley, who, Tamara discovers, has a wonderfully dry deadpan sense of humor.

“My parents’ movers can pack up a place and set it up exactly the way it was before,” Riley shrugs. “When you move documents, especially classified crap, that’s a must. Just give me directions and a key to your place and you’ll walk into the exact same mess here that you had at home. They can schedule a cleaning crew, too, so you get your security deposit back.”

“Wow.” Tamara is duly impressed. “Here is the key, and I’ll email you directions. And I’ll let Mr. Volker know.”

Hunter holds up another key. “Way ahead of you, Ma’m.”

“Holy smokes. So – do I get a bill or pay in advance?”

Hunter rolls his eyes. “Eli and Chloe would break my knees if we charged you. My parents and their parents were like super-close. Actually, Eli would probably make a movie of me going potty and post it on YouTube. Never mess with a budding film maker who is bored at MIT.” He shakes her hand. “I’m still hoping to win a raffle.”

Tamara laughs. “Just stop by any time. He’s a lot better. Bring a chess game or something. I think he would enjoy that and I don’t know how to play. Just make sure he keeps his head relatively still.”

“All righty,” Hunter salutes her. “Retrieving chess game now. Hi-ho, hi-ho.” And he’s off.

Barnes shakes her head. “The Rileys are all like that.”

“I remember they were at Matt’s wedding, although I didn’t get a chance to actually meet them.”

“Is Matt coming back soon?”

“I hope so. I understand he’s someplace where he can’t get away for a while. Probably some covert ops thing, what do I know.”

“Probably. But hey – moving is done! I tell you, everything will be there come Monday, just the way you left it.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Yeah.  I’ve used the Rileys before, too. They’re awesome. Of course, I paid for mine, but all in all, given the time I saved and the aggravation, it was worth every penny.”

Another call comes in and off they go to see to an elderly man who went into hypoglycemia at the movies.

oOo

When she gets back to the hospital she’s surprised to see Everett in an electric wheelchair, apparently receiving driving lessons from a therapist, going up and down the hallway. She claps in excitement – it’s so good to finally see him out of bed, and he gives her a huge happy smile.

“You l-like my new car?” he gestures at his feet.

“Hot damn, Everett, that is one awesome set of wheels. How long do you get to have it?”

“We don’t need to move his bed anymore,” the therapist says. “He can drive himself to his sessions now.”

“Can he go outside?”

“As long as it’s not raining I don’t see why not – there’s an oxygen generator and IV pump on the back.”

“Great! Why don’t we go for a little drive around the lake behind the hospital tomorrow?”

“Yes! Please!” She hasn’t seen him this happy since before the accident.

“All right now, Colonel, that’s enough for today. You’re scheduled for a cleanup next.”

Tamara raises her hand. “May I do it?”

The therapist nods. “Yes, of course – it’s just a wipe-down today anyway. I believe everything is already in the room, and I’ll help you get him back onto the bed.”

Two orderlies show up to get him situated and remove his scrubs, covering him with a light sheet.

She makes sure the sign is on the door before turning back to him.

“I take it you had a good day.”

“I want to w-walk,” he says, “But this is good, too.”

She kisses him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask you… Do you mind if I do this for you?”

He shakes his head but she can tell that he’s a little tense.

“I’ve never seen you naked,” she whispers, “and if you don’t want it, then I’ll just call the staff back. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with this.”

“I’ve s-seen you n-naked,” he points out.

She smiles. “That you have. More than once, too. And I like being naked in front of you. I like the way you look at me, when you touch me. Will it help if I take my clothes off, too?”

“If you want.”

She nods. “All right, in the buff it is.” And she quickly strips out of her uniform, as his eyes never leave her.

She makes no special effort to turn the cleanup into an occasion; she avoids touching him in any way other than for the business at hand. And while she pulls out the damp cloths from their container she casually tells him about her day, and about meeting Hunter Riley, and that she’ll be moving to Cloverdale on the weekend. “Well, actually, I’m not really moving, I’m already here, but my junk is moving. All I have to do is clear out of the room that I’m in right now.”

She pulls the sheet up and pointedly tries not to look at his privates, but the unexpected sight makes her look up at him, while pulling the sheet back down.

She blinks at him. “You don’t have any pubic hair.”

He smiles. “No. Not anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Everett, I know this is way out of line, but it surprised me, that’s all. After weeks in the hospital, I mean, even the best shave…”

“They burned it off me. Th-then used a laser… or-or-or something, so the h-hair wouldn’t gr-grow back.”

She bites her lips. She hadn’t considered that it might be a result of his imprisonment.

“I’m so sorry, Everett. I wasn’t thinking. How clumsy of me. Oh, I am so, so sorry I said anything.”

He shakes his head. “It’s all right. You-you would have seen… anyway.” He shrugs. “I-I don… I don’t miss it.”

“Damn. I should have known. I should have thought about it. Do you want me to stop?”

“No. I’m okay w-with it.”

She nods, then pulls up the sheet and quickly finishes wiping down his legs and groin area. She’s careful not to touch him with her bare hands, only the cloths, even though she very much wants to. His cock is resting on his thigh, and her mouth is watering at the sheer sight of it, but she pushes the thought away, knowing that there will come a time for her to enjoy it. She does notice a large scar on the inside of his left thigh, though, and she recognizes the tell-tale signs of a skin graft there. She doesn’t mention it to him – she doesn’t want to slip up again.

“There. All done.”

She picks up the set of scrubs from the counter and guides his head and right arm through the top, buttoning the left sleeve above his IV. She helps him roll to the side so she can place the back part of the shorts on the bed and snap the front part to it.

“Feel better?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

She pulls the sheet over him again and then drapes the blanket over him as well. Afterwards she gets dressed, suddenly a little self-conscious of her nudity.

She sits down next to him and takes his hand, pressing it against her cheek.

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel bad about what just happened. That was so insensitive of me.”

He shakes his head. “No. It’s normal. And the hair is st-still there everywh-where else.”

She looks up. “They shaved you all over?”

“Yes. Easy there. Groin area is-is too compli… complicated, too many cuts.”

She winces in sympathy. “I can imagine. How often did they shave you?”

“Every day. I was… tied down.”

She closes her eyes, kisses his hand. She can’t imagine the humiliation he must have endured, and she’s sure she hasn’t heard the worst of it yet.

He squeezes her hand.

“Scar is from skin graft. Branding there. I cut it off.”

She looks at him, horrified. “They branded you? Like they used to do with cattle?”

He nods. “Property. I cut it when-when I got out.”

“Oh, Everett…” She starts to cry.

He looks at her, then closes his eyes. For a long time neither one of them says anything. Finally he sighs. “It was very bad.”

“I bet. But you’re safe now. You’re home. And I’m here. And I don’t care if you have hair or not, or scars or grafts, because you’re beautiful to me.”

He pulls at her hand and kisses her fingers. “And you to me.”

She smiles sadly.

“My dad lost all of his hair because of the chemo. Everything, everywhere. Even his eyelashes fell out. I shaved his head so he wouldn’t have to see all his hair falling out on the pillow. He had beautiful hair – light blond, the classic Scandinavian look. I kept some of it. At the end there, it wouldn’t grow back anymore. And I missed shaving him. His beard was always red, though.”

He nods. “Were you the only one… taking care of-of him?”

She shrugs. “I barely knew my mother – she died of a stroke when I was young. My sister was already married and lived pretty far away. So my grandma Carmen took care of me, and I took care of him.”

She looks at him thoughtfully.

“I’m scared, sometimes, that subconsciously I’m using you, to save him. A substitute, like I said before.”

“I can live with that. I want to be the one… the one you save. I can play th-that part. For you.”

She smiles under her tears.

“I promise you – I have never had any designs on my dad.”

“I know.”

“That part is all for you.”

And she leans over and kisses him.

oOo

It turns out that the Rileys’ claim for a perfect move was right on. She walks into the apartment above Volker’s pharmacy, and it’s basically her place back in the Springs, down to the trash in the wastebasket by her desk.

“Wow,” she marvels. “This is amazing! It’s like teleportation or something.”

Hunter shrugs. “It’s what these people do. They’re very good at it. Oh, and mom threw in the cleaning crew, fearing Chloe’s wrath. Your check with the security deposit is in the mail.”

She hugs him on impulse. “Thank you so much,” she says.

“Anytime,” Hunter smiles. “Welcome to Cloverdale!”

And after he leaves she looks around her new old place, a reminder of her life before she met Everett, before her first visit to this strange town that pulled her in like the prodigal daughter, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

She drives over to the place at the dispatch and packs her things; Leanne stops by later on to help her, and then Lisa shows up with the dogs and bags of cleaning supplies, and together they have the place all done in no time while the dogs snooze on the rug.

At the end of the day her new apartment feels almost like home, but she has the feeling she won’t be spending much time there. Still, it feels good to have a place of her own again.

She puts the yellow teddy bear on her nightstand and then makes her way back to the hospital.

oOo

It’s rare for him to spend the day in bed now. Whenever possible he’s outside, wearing shorts and scrubs, always accompanied by a visitor. Tamara steps to the window, and sure enough, she spots his chair close by, at the small lake. She recognizes Dr. Brightman with him and is about to hurry down to greet her, when it occurs to her that they might be discussing personal matters, the way she’s leaning in to him. She watches for a while.

She’s infinitely grateful for the doctor’s dedication. Without her, Everett would have never survived the ordeal of his escape back then. There’s a special bond between them, and she understands there are certain things he can only discuss with her, since she herself does not have the high clearance level. She suspects there’s a lot more to it than she can imagine.

Where was the place where he was kept prisoner? What ruler was so demented to brand her prisoners and then abuse them sexually for half a year? She shakes her head. She’s sure she’s better off not knowing the details, but she can’t help but wonder.

She waits until they move back towards the hospital, then goes downstairs and meets them halfway.

“Dr. Brightman! What a surprise!”

“Please, call me Alison. We know each other well enough by now. Don’t you agree, Everett?”

He beams as Tamara bends down to kiss him, and together they make their way back to the room.

“Barring any more setbacks you’ll go home early next week. They’ll deliver a hospital bed to your house and install a ramp. Is there a place on the ground floor you can use as a bedroom at first?”

“Living room is fine. Have a guest bath, too.”

“Perfect. I’m arranging for visiting nurses and aides to help you with bathing and food and bathroom visits. A normal wheelchair will be fine, and it’s easier to get around the house anyway. Your therapists will be coming in every day.”

“Lisa is continuing her sitter list, so while I’m on my shift you’ll always have someone around. And of course Ms Wray and Ms Walker are right next door.”

“They’ll fit you for a fiberglass cast tomorrow, and soon you’ll be up on crutches anyway.”

Brightman calls in several aides to help move him back to his bed. “I just want to do a final physical, for the files.”

Tamara understands that this is private doctor – patient time and excuses herself to go get some coffee. She’s about to doze off waiting outside his room when Brightman pokes her head out the door and calls for her to come back in.

“The nurses will brief you more thoroughly, of course, but I want you both to know that progress will be much slower from now on – smaller steps, so don’t get too frustrated. It simply takes time. You’ll have to have regular checkups – the nurses will advise you on that. You’ll just have to keep at it and trust that you can make a full recovery. And I would advise you to remove that lethal cabinet door before it claims another skull.”

“Thank you,” Everett says, as she takes his hand. “Again.”

“No, thank _you_ for being such a tough guy, and for giving me the privilege to help you with that long journey back.” She hugs him.

“Take care, TJ. Of him and of yourself. I’m so glad you found each other. Please keep me in the loop.”

“Of course,” Tamara promises and hugs her as well.

They are quiet for some time after Dr. Brightman leaves, each hanging after their own thoughts.

“Don’t you want to-to sleep at your new apartment some t-time?” he asks.

“You kickin’ me out?”

“N-no. But you need to rest as w-well.”

“I like sleeping in a bed with you.”

He smiles. “I like it, too.”

“Hmmm… Perhaps I should try it just once, before you get home.”

“And then you c-can have M-Matt’s room.”

“Okay.”

oOo

She lies in her bed and stares at the ceiling, wondering whether he’s all right, whether he misses her as much as she misses him. Her bed feels huge; she’s gotten used to squeezing onto the hospital bed beside him, and she’s cold, despite the fact that it’s a warm late summer night. She misses his warm body, his scent, part hospital antiseptic, part very much just him.

She tosses and turns, gets up to go to the bathroom, puts on a pair of socks, gets a glass of water. She looks down onto the deserted street, watches the moths dancing around the street lamps.

She wanders around the dark apartment, opens the refrigerator with no intention of eating anything. She turns on the TV, watches the Weather Channel for a while, then flips through a catalog.

Finally she picks up the yellow teddy bear.

“I miss you,” she says. “I’m worried sick that something might go wrong again.”

She cuddles the bear against her chest, then tucks it under her chin as she lies down again. And maybe she just imagines it – but there is a faint smell of him in the soft plush.

She smiles, and she cries a little, and she finally falls asleep.

oOo

Days later she’s sitting next to him in the ambulance, as he’s finally going home. He’s apprehensive about being strapped in on the gurney, but she holds his hand the entire time and keeps him focused on her. It’s not a long ride, but she can feel he’s utterly terrified, trying to fight it but not succeeding entirely.

“Next stop: 3025 Edgewood Drive,” Leanne calls out.

“Almost home,” Tamara smiles, and he nods.

Strong helpers pull the gurney from the van and maneuver him up the walk and through the front door. Tamara gazes around in surprise – Lisa has done yeoman’s work in transforming the living room into a bright, airy bedroom. A hospital bed is ready, a small crowd of well-wishers is standing by to help, and there are fresh flowers and balloons everywhere, as well as gift baskets and a large corkboard with coupons for free dinners and groceries.

Lisa is fairly bouncing on her heels as they look around.

“Brody sent over a small chest freezer he had in the back – it’s in the garage, full of frozen homemade meals that people have brought in. Everything is labeled, and there’s an inventory list taped to the lid.”

Everett reaches out and she hugs him carefully.

“Thanks f-for everything,” he says.

“It’s been a pleasure,” Lisa beams. “It was so nice to see how this town pulled together to help out. You’ve done so much for them that they were almost too eager to give back what they could.”

She steps aside and watches with Tamara, as a nurse gets him situated on the bed. “You’re off the IV for the time being, but the port needs to stay in so we can keep administering your meds without making you look like a junkie. And leave the oxygen line on if at all possible – your brain still needs the extra supply.”

“All right,” Lisa yells, “everybody out now! Give the poor man a little room and some peace and quiet! Who’s on tomorrow morning?”

Darren Becker from the Clova raises his hand.

“Excellent. Now – out!”

Everett has to shake a lot of hands as the group files past him and out the door.

Tamara sits down next to him.

“Whew – what a circus! But what a great town, too. I still can’t believe all this.” She gestures at the room.

Everett nods. “New curtains… new slipcover for the sofa… oh, a fl-flat-screen TV! Wow…”

“And best of all, you’re home.” She leans over and kisses him, gently, sweetly, sucking his lower lip into her mouth.

A knock on the door startles them both.

Tamara sighs and gets up and goes down the hall to open the front door.

“Matthew? Chloe!” She can’t believe her eyes.

“TJ,” Matt smiles, gives her a quick peck on the cheek and shoulders past her into the house. “Dad? Dad!”

Chloe smiles and hugs Tamara. “We just got back… we had no idea… we came down here right away.”

“Come on,” she says, and they walk back to the living room. Matt is sobbing in Everett’s arms, and it breaks her heart to see Everett cry as well.

“I’m so sorry, dad,” Matt groans. “I can’t believe this happened… and I wasn’t there for you, oh dad, I’m so sorry!”

Everett gently strokes his back, then smiles at Chloe. Matt pulls back, kissing his face, his hands. “I’m so glad to see you’re better, but you could have died and I wouldn’t have been there.”

“But he’s all right now,” Chloe says and carefully nudges him aside to hug her father-in-law.

“We were offw-… we were gone until yesterday, in basic training. It took forever to get a transport back out. Dr. Brightman was able to send us a few updates. Matt was unbearable. Here, honey,” she hands him a tissue.

“I’m f-fine, kids,” Everett smiles. “Tamara was there the whole time.”

“As was the rest of the town,” Tamara adds. “How long can you stay?”

Matt sniffles. “Maybe an hour. Car’s waiting outside.”

“In that case, I’ll leave you three alone – I’m sure you have a lot to discuss. I’ll run back to my place in the meantime and get my bag.”

Chloe perks up. “Your place? You live here now?”

Tamara nods. “I transferred in. I have the apartment above Mr. Volker’s pharmacy.”

“Oh, nice! And that’s really close to here, too! Congratulations!”

“Thanks. I’ll be back in a little bit. Call me if you need to head out before I get back.”

She quickly hugs them and then leaves discreetly.

It feels strange to drive to her apartment – she really doesn’t want to be there, but she knows Matt and Chloe will need time with Everett, especially if they have to talk about classified topics. She’s okay with that. She has her own classified topics with Everett that only the two of them know about.

It makes her smile.

oOo

She returns just about as Matt and Chloe are getting ready to leave. Matt pulls her aside.

“I had a funny feeling,” he admits, “that the moment I couldn’t be there for him something would happen. I’m so glad you were there. I can’t ever thank you enough.”

“Your dad is an amazing man, Matt. We’ve gotten very close throughout all of this, and I’m the one who should be thanking you! If you hadn’t invited me to the reception…”

He hugs her quietly, unable to respond in words.

“TJ, you’re the best,” Chloe says. “So the Rileys moved you? Aren’t they awesome?”

“They are,” Tamara confirms. “Thanks to your parents’ friendship with them, it was the easiest move ever!”

“And the Colonel’s the best there is,” Chloe whispers in her ear, as she hugs her. “You two are perfect for each other. I’m so happy for you.”

And before she knows it they are both gone. She waves as the black SUV pulls away, and then she goes back into the house.

Everett looks pensive.

“I’ve missed them,” he says.

Tamara smiles. “Of course you did. He’s your son, and now she’s your daughter. They’re your family.”

He reaches for her hand.

“And you’re my family now, too.”

She sits down on the edge of his bed and kisses him lightly on the lips.

He’s crying again.

“I love you, Tamara.”

Her heart jumps in her chest, as she feels herself tear up as well.

“And I love you, Everett. I knew it from the first moment I saw you. I knew it. I can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”

She snuggles up next to him, feels his fingers caressing her shoulder, feels him pressing tiny kisses to the top of her head.

They lie there for a long time, just enjoying being close, enjoying the quiet, the comfort.

Finally she sits up.

“I have to pee,” she says and laughs.

“Funny – I do, too,” he says, and she gets up and hands him the bottle and helps him position it, then she empties and rinses it with disinfectant and goes to the bathroom herself.

“Are you hungry? There’s some peach pie that Ms Wray made. It’s all fresh.”

“That sounds great,” he nods.

She fetches two plates and a bed tray and hands him a fork. He verily destroys the pie as he eats it, but she lets him work with the fork on his own, knowing what a sense of accomplishment it will give him. And he manages, even if it takes him a long time and it’s a bit messy. She takes the plate and fork from him and hands him a cup of water with a straw – it’s still easier for him to drink this way, and he doesn’t need any help with it.

He’s dozed off by the time she returns from the kitchen.

“Sorry, I was tired,” he blushes.

“Well, it’s been a big day, so I don’t blame you. Toothbrush?”

“Yes, please.”

“In a couple of days you will be able to use the crutches to get around. Won’t that be nice?”

“Mmhmm.”

She waits until he finishes brushing his teeth, then hands him a warm wet cloth so he can wipe himself down a little bit while she gets ready for bed herself.

“Want me to stay down here with you? Or I can use Matt’s room and leave the door open.”

“Stay?”

She smiles. “All right. Can you scoot over a little?”

She turns off the lights and climbs up on the bed, raising the rail behind her. He’s already fast asleep by the time she pulls up the blankets. She lies there for a while, looking at the darkened room, listening to the sounds of the unfamiliar place. She’s exhausted, but somehow she’s wide awake. After an hour she carefully gets up and tiptoes to the bottom of the stairs. The blood has been cleaned up a long time ago but she can’t help but check to make sure. She turns on the light above the stairs, and there’s nothing there to see. She sits down on the bottom step, thinking back to the day when she found him unconscious in that place. She shudders at the thought and then gets up again, turns off the light and creeps back into the living room. He wakes briefly as she slips back under the covers, and she kisses his forehead as he falls asleep again.

oOo

Darren Becker arrives at the same time as the morning nurse, and so he helps getting Everett out of bed and into a wheelchair. Tamara helps with what she can to get him ready for the day and just as she is about to leave Sharon Walker from next door arrives.

“Lisa figures you’ll need two people, at least the first few days. Don’t you worry about a thing, TJ, we got you covered.”

“The speech therapist will be here in an hour or so,” Tamara checks the schedule. “You all have my cell number. Call me if anything comes up.”

“Go save people,” Everett says and waves and she gives him a quick kiss. Then he turns to Darren. “We were going to see a m-movie, honestly, but then I fell.”

Darren laughs. “Sorry, that doesn’t count for the plaque. My loss!”

Tamara smiles and hurries out the door to go to work.

Later that day she drives past him on Main Street, as Brody and Vanessa from the tavern push him along towards the park. He looks good, smiling happily, as he waves and blows a kiss at her.

oOo

He’s in the wheelchair playing chess with Dale Volker, as she returns home that evening, exhausted but happy with the day’s events.

“Skinned knee, twisted ankle, waters broke on a pregnant lady, minor burn, nosebleed that wouldn’t stop, food poisoning, guinea pig bite,” she counts off on the fingers of her hands.

“A guinea pig bite?” Volker perks up.

“Little kid got bitten by his pet guinea pig. Didn’t even break the skin but hollered like it was the end of the world. Didn’t want the guinea pig anymore. It’s at the station right now – Brody’s nephew will pick it up tomorrow.”

“I had guinea pigs as a kid,” Volker remembers. “Loved those little rascals. Well, I better be going. Do you need help with anything before I leave?”

“Actually, yes – getting him to the bathroom and into bed.”

“No problem. Come on, Colonel. Potty’s calling your name.”

A few minutes later Everett is safely back in his bed and Dale leaves.

“And how was your day? Other than a trip to the park with Brody and Vanessa?”

“Busy. Learned to use the cr-crutches today.”

“How did that go?”

He blows out a sharp breath. “It’s hard. Exhaus… ting.”

“I bet. But it’s great – soon you can chuck the wheelchair, too. You just have to be careful with the foot. I guess those ribs hurt again, too, with the crutches.”

“Oh yes.”

“What would you like for dinner?”

He shrugs.

“There’s some mac’n’cheese with broccoli. And maybe some more pie?”

“Okay.”

She pops the pan in the oven, happy to see him watch TV while she tidies up a bit. She straightens his bed sheets and lays out a new set of scrubs for him, then packs her bag for the next day.

They eat together and he manages fairly well – every day it’s getting a tiny bit better. He’s still frustrated about his lack of coordination, but she gives him time and helps him only when he asks for it.

“Want to try real toothpaste tonight?”

“Real?”

“Grown-ups toothpaste, the kind you have to spit out. I’ll get you a bowl and you can use that. Leaning forward shouldn’t be a problem anymore, just go slow.”

She’s never seen anyone enjoy brushing his teeth and rinsing his mouth so much in her whole life, and he’s pleased with his progress.

“All right, time to hose you down,” she says. She pulls the shirt over his head, then unsnaps his pants and helps him roll to the side so she can take the back half and put down the rubber sheet. He leans back and closes his eyes as she sponges him down and rubs him dry; next she helps him wash his chest, neck, arms and face, and shampoos his hair lightly, careful of his wounds. Then she scrubs down his back while he lies on his side, and once he’s dry she removes the sheet and rolls him back.

She points at the scrubs. “Purple or blue?”

He shakes his head. “None.”

“Ah,” she smiles. “You want dessert?”

He smiles impishly. “Maybe?”

She nods. “Let me get cleaned up myself, then.” She hands him the remote control for the TV and covers him lightly with a blanket.

She hurries upstairs and takes a shower and shaves and quickly washes her hair. She puts on a bathrobe and joins him again, turning off the light and the TV and just leaving a small bedside lamp on. Then she removes the robe and slips under the covers with him.

“So, what did you have in mind?” she purrs and leans over him so he can reach her breasts. She straddles his hips and cups her left breast so he can suckle on it. She hums in delight, then gives him her right breast.

“I want to fuck you so badly, Everett, but I know you need time. And it’s okay – I can wait until you’re better, until you’re ready.”

She rubs her palms over his nipples as she climbs off him.

“I would like to touch you, though. Would that be all right?”

He takes a deep breath and exhales with a shudder. “Yes.”

“Do you _want_ me to?”

He looks at her, nods.

“You trust me. You know I won’t hurt you.”

“Yes.”

She pushes herself up and kisses his chest, sucks on his nipples, careful to stay away from the sore ribs.

“Take my hand,” she whispers. “Take my hand and put it on yourself. Where you want me.”

And she interlaces her fingers with his, rubs his crippled pinkie, then finally places her palm on his stomach so he can take her hand. He pushes it lower, gliding over his stomach, his hips, his upper thighs.

She relaxes, concentrates on letting him lead her.

“I love touching your skin,” she says and then sucks on his nipple again. “You taste good. I can barely taste the meds now. Mmhmm, so good.”

He puts her hand at the base of his cock and for a while she just stays there, feeling the soft skin against her fingertips. He takes another deep breath, then pushes her hand down all the way to rest on his cock. She holds very still, feels his hand tremble on top of hers.

“I love touching your cock,” she whispers. “You’re beautiful. I adore it.”

He exhales and presses down lightly on her hand, bending her fingers, and she takes her cue to wrap her hand around him. He feels full and heavy, not soft any longer but also not quite erect yet. She looks up at him and he smiles a little.

“You okay with this?” she asks, and he nods.

She moves her hand, trails her fingertips lightly over his length, strokes him gently back and forth, feeling him twitch here and there. She lifts her leg, straddles his thigh and moves closer, rubbing her wet groin against him. His breath hitches and she looks at him again.

His eyes are closed, mouth half open, and he looks so good to her, she wants to pounce on him and devour him. She begins to milk him carefully, stroking up and down, feeling him lengthen and fill out.

“Hold on,” she whispers, then moves her hand between her legs, gathering some of the slickness there, then moves back to his cock. He moans softly as she glides her hand along his shaft again, squeezing slightly, pulling just a little.

“Touch me, Everett.”

And his hand leaves hers and slips down to her groin, his fingers finding her entrance, pushing into her wet folds. She grinds her hips against his hand. “More,” she gasps, “more, please.” Angling her hips to give him a more comfortable reach she moves her palm over the tip of his cock, feels a little bit of moisture there, and the mere thought of it makes her moan. She moves up higher to allow him to penetrate her more deeply, and he inserts a third finger and pushes hard. She yelps in surprise at his bold move and grasps his fingers with her inner muscles.

His cock twitches in response and she redoubles her efforts, as he’s full and hard now.

“Come for me, Everett,” she moans, “Come for me. Come for me.”

And with a strangled cry he bucks up suddenly, groaning loudly as she feels his strong contractions throughout, and she bites her lip as his fingers grab her hard, almost bruising her to the point of pain. She breathes through the agony, holding on to his cock, pumping him steadily.

She cries out as he eases up his grip on her, her orgasm hitting her with surprising strength, and she shudders above him, gasping for air.

“Everett,” she moans. “Fuck. Oh fuck.”

He stops pushing, holding his hand still as she rides out the aftershocks, still moving her hand on his cock but only lightly so, trying not to hurt him.

Her moans fade into laughs, and she leans up to kiss him. “That was marvelous,” she sighs. “You came so hard. Oh, you were fantastic!” And she gathers some of his come and puts her fingers into her mouth, tasting the bitter-salty fluid. He watches her with tears in his eyes, breathing hard, then moves his hand, rotating his wrist and withdrawing his fingers, pushing his pinkie into her instead.

“Oh, shit,” she cries out. “Yes, oh fuck, yes.”

He smiles. “Turn around,” he whispers.

She’s confused but does as he asks, and she straddles his hips. He kneads her buttocks for a short while, then glides his fingers along her folds and further, dipping his pinkie into her again, then pushing it against her hole. She gasps and bears down against him, and he pushes his stiff pinkie into her ass. She groans hard – a long drawn out cry of desire, and he reaches for her clit with his other hand, rubs her in small circles as she sinks down on her forearms, licking his spent cock clean.

He rotates his finger in her ass and presses hard on her clit, and she comes again, bucking helplessly above him, sobbing with the overstimulation, aroused to the point of pain now.

She feels his fingers leave her clit, catches her breath as his hands stroke her buttocks in small circles. She rests her cheek on his lower abdomen, feels him gently move his finger in her ass.

“You’re so soft there,” he murmurs. “Like velvet.”

She smiles against his belly. “You like it?”

“I do.”

“I love it. Oh… Don’t stop.”

“Hang on.”

She turns her head, sees him reaching for the lip balm on the nightstand. He carefully withdraws his pinkie, then coats his index finger and pushes it gently into her ass. She scoots back towards him to give him easier access, and he finger fucks her deeply while she hums in appreciation.

“I suppose I have a bit of an ass fetish,” she giggles, as he rotates his hand and moves his finger in and out. “This feels so good to me. Oh, fuck, this is so nice.”

Soon she can tell his arms are getting tired and she sits up as he slips his finger out of her. She turns around and kisses him leisurely, then gets up to fetch the disinfectant wipes. She cleans his hand thoroughly, then fills a bowl with warm water and washes him with soap as well, finishing with a squirt of hand sanitizer.

Reaching between her legs she laughs.

“I’m such a mess.” And she uses another cloth to clean herself up while he watches.

She crawls back up on the bed and spoons against him. He kisses her hair.

“This was my first time since I… since I got away.”

She nods against his shoulder. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes, very much.“

“We’ll have to do that again soon, then. I want to taste you without the meds.”

“You could still t-taste them?”

“Yes. It’s not bad, though. Just different.”

“I’ve never thought about that…”

“I know. It’s all right. And thank you for indulging me.”

“Are y-you kidding? That was the h-hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She laughs. “Plenty more where that came from.”

He pulls her up close. “Good.”

And she drifts off to sleep, with her hand over his cock and his hand between her thighs.

oOo

The next few days are hard on them both, as Everett’s physical therapist wants him to work with the crutches now. His broken foot gives him trouble as he can’t put any weight on it yet, and he still has issues with keeping his equilibrium, often succumbing to vertigo and nausea.

“It’s your head injury,” the therapist says, “but you have to force your brain to make alternate arrangements, as it were, so those small damaged areas can be circumvented. And that will only happen if you challenge yourself with these tasks.”

Tamara tries to stay with him during those difficult sessions; he gets frustrated easily. His long convalescence has caused significant muscle deterioration, despite the gentle exercise he did in the hospital. He barely manages to support his own weight, and if he tries harder his sore ribs cause him great pain.

She takes a few days off to be with him, and she feels strangely alone in this time – he is far too exhausted at the end of the day and usually falls asleep right away. When he’s awake he’s depressed and sad. She hates seeing him this way, but she doesn’t know what else to do, other than being supportive of his efforts and to just quietly be there and hold him.

Finally she calls Dr. Brightman for advice.

“Sounds like he’s reached the ‘deep funk’ stage,” she says.

“That’s not a medical term, is it?”

Brightman laughs. “No, not exactly, but brain trauma specialists all recognize it as such. It happens when progress plateaus, when the brain needs to catch up with healing, and it just takes time. He will get better, there’s no doubt about it, but right now he probably feels like he’s banging his head against the wall and he’s a complete failure.”

“He’s often nauseous and has vertigo, too, and he sleeps a lot.”

“All right – let me talk to one of his doctors down there and see if we can adjust his meds, temporarily, maybe try a different painkiller for a while.”

“Is there anything I can do in the meantime?”

“Surprise him with something. A new environment, maybe. A daytrip with a picnic. Visit his soccer team.”

“Oh, he would love that,” Tamara exclaims. “Will it screw up his therapy if he sits out a day?”

“No – just make sure he gets a similar amount of exercise. He won’t notice it that much.”

“Okay, it’s a deal. Thanks, Alison. I just hate to see him like this, you know?”

Brightman sighs. “It’s a tough stage in his journey now. Many TBI victims never make it past it, because they lack the support and incentive to want to get better. He’s lucky to have you. I got a feeling this will all turn out all right. Just don’t give up, and don’t let him give up.”

“I won’t,” Tamara promises.

And she knows exactly what to do.

The next morning she gets his wheelchair ready after she helps him get dressed. He uses the crutches to maneuver himself into the chair and she pushes him to the front door.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing. You got the day off and we’re outta here.”

“Oh?”

She picks up an extra jacket and a blanket and places them on his lap, then opens the front door and eases him down the ramp.

Heading back into the house she hoists up her backpack and locks the door.

“Where are we going?” he cranes his neck.

“It’s a surprise,” she smiles. “Here, put these on.” She hands him his sunglasses and a ball cap. It’s a beautiful crisp Fall day and she pushes him down the sidewalk, towards downtown. They meet a number of friends on the way; some of them walk with them for a while. Just before they hit Main Street they turn and go down the road towards the high school. Philip Gorman is waiting for them on the sidewalk and together they make their way down to the soccer field.

“How’s the guinea pig,” Everett asks.

“Rosie? Oh, she’s great. She squeaks when I play with her and let her run around my bedroom.”

It’s a zoo when the kids spot Everett and come running in his direction, and he gets lots of hugs and handshakes, and Tamara stands to the side and watches gleefully as he smiles and laughs and everyone talks at once. Finally their supervisor gets them organized into a practice game, and Everett beams as they take his hand signals and prove to him that they haven’t let their skills slide.

Then two of the older kids haul a large wheeled cooler to the field and Everett helps handing out sports drinks to everybody. It’s a regular little party, and she can’t help but wipe a tear away, she’s so proud of him.

The bell rings and the kids reluctantly file back into the building. A few have permission to stay behind and clean up and help her get him back to the sidewalk.

He waves as they go back inside.

“Thank you,” he says, and she squats down next to his chair. “That was the best gift ever. I’ve missed those kids.”

“They missed you, too,” she smiles and kisses him on the cheek.

“Hungry?”

“Actually – yes!”

“Okay, off we go.”

It takes them a good while but eventually they reach Brody’s Tavern, and Vanessa is waiting by the door.

“Come on in,” she giggles. “Lunch is ready!” She helps him get into a booth and it’s Brody himself who serves them a huge pile of fried pickles and sandwiches, while Vanessa gets their drinks.

“Business kinda slow today?” Everett eyes the empty tavern.

“On the contrary,” Brody shakes his head. “Everyone else is just hiding.”

And suddenly dozens of people jump up behind tables and the counter. Lisa, Volker, Hunter, Sheriff Telford, Camile and Sharon, Darren, even Dr. Rush is there. It’s a noisy crowd but everyone is happy to be there, even if it’s in the middle of the day. Brody and Vanessa are busy serving lunches and drinks, and laughter abounds as everyone tries to get some time with Everett.

Brody rings up the bill. “Folks, that’s 167 dollars and 85 cents for the TBI Research Foundation. Anybody want to bump it up to an even 200?”

To everyone’s surprise Rush is quickest to put up his hand, and shortly thereafter they all go back to their day jobs.

“Thanks, Brody. You guys are fantastic. Thank you so much!”

“Nah, s’okay,” Brody waves him off. “My pleasure.” He gives Tamara a hug and Vanessa sees them to the front door.

“I can’t believe you did all this for me,” Everett smiles. “Oh Tamara, it’s just what I needed.”

She squeezes his shoulder and moves him back along the street, eventually arriving on Main Street and heading straight for the Clova.

Darren Becker holds the doors open for them and gestures at a sign in the lobby that says “Special matinee screening. Occupancy limit: 2”.

She wheels him down the aisle of the empty movie theatre, and then Darren hands him his crutches so he can amble towards the center seats. While they get situated he rushes off and returns with a giant bucket of popcorn and several boxes of candy, then retreats to the projectionist’s booth.

“What’s the movie?” Everett wonders.

“Shhh. It’s a surprise.”

And at the first few notes of the opening music he whoops loudly.

“Apollo 13! I love it! How did you know?”

Tamara puts her head on his shoulder. “I saw your DVD collection… you have five – count them – _five_ different editions of that movie. I figured it’s a favorite. Plus, I love it, too.”

“Oh, really? Tom Hanks fan?”

“Jim Lovell, actually. I met him at Kennedy Space Center on a school trip years ago. I still have his autograph and a picture of the two of us.”

“He’s a wonderful person, isn’t he?”

“You’ve met him, too?”

Everett nods. “He’s always been a true inspiration for me.”

She smiles, enjoying watching him almost more than the movie, as he lip-synchs along with the lines. He points out minor flaws in the movie as well as the depth of historical accuracy, and it’s as if she’s never really seen it before, with all those new facts and details.

Time flies and before she knows it the lights come on again and Darren helps him get back to his chair.

“Thank you so much, Darren – that was truly special.”

Darren smiles widely. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Colonel. Have a fabulous day now!”

She wheels him across the street to the pharmacy and through the store to the back where Dale is holding the door open for them and hands Tamara a small key. “Keep it as long as you need it,” he winks at her. Everett looks at the steep staircase.

“I’d love to see your new place, but I’m not sure I can make it up these steps,” he says.

Tamara holds up the small key. “Stair lift. Dale’s granny used to live upstairs, and she had trouble with the steps, so he had a stair lift installed.”

She folds down a seat near the handrail and helps him onto it. He fastens the safety belt and she shows him the controls, walking up the stairs next to him.

“Awesome,” he grins.

She hands him the crutches and he hobbles inside. Looking around he nods to himself. “This is really nice! I’ve never been up here.”

“I figured you’d be ready for a nap by now,” she smiles and gestures at the bedroom.

“I am. I’m exhausted.”

“Perfect. Here, let me help you.” She eases him down onto the bed, takes his crutches and helps swing his legs up, then tucks a pillow under his cast and he groans with relief. She removes his left shoe and drapes a blanket over him, as he struggles to keep his eyes open.

Sitting down next to him she kisses his forehead. “I’ll wake you in a few hours. I’m not going anywhere.”

And he’s gone. She looks at his relaxed face and loves seeing him in her bed with the yellow teddy bear watching over him. Suddenly she can’t wait to see herself in Everett’s bed. The mere thought of it makes her heart race.

“Soon,” she whispers.

She checks her email, sends a few messages, responds to others, calls in at the dispatch. Apparently it’s another one of those really slow days where everybody is careful out there and an intense game of monopoly is in progress at the station.

An hour later she carefully climbs up on the bed and lies down next to him, propping her head up on her elbow. She loves to watch him sleep – he looks so boyish when he’s relaxed, even the near-constant crease between his eyebrows is gone. His hair has grown back full and thick but the area of his injury is still almost bald, as is the site of the ventriculostomy. He will probably have those scars forever, she thinks, but soon they will be covered up, too. She sighs. This must have been what he looked like when he was still on active duty. She tries to imagine him in uniform and smiles. Oh yes – he must have been dashing and very handsome. Still, she’s looking forward for his curls to reappear – even just a little bit.

He inhales deeply and opens his eyes, looking around in confusion, and she touches his hand.

“Hey, you,” she says.

He looks at her and smiles in relief.

“Hey,” he croaks. “I was wondering where the heck I was. Now I remember.”

“Mmhmm.” She leans over him and kisses him, her lips barely touching his, stroking his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw.

“How do you feel?”

“Good, actually. A little groggy. May I have a glass of water?”

“I have cranberry juice…”

“My favorite!”

She laughs and helps him sit up against the headboard.

“Be right back.”

She hurries to the kitchen and cracks open one of the small juice bottles from the fridge, pops a straw in and hands it to him. And she’s thrilled to see him holding the bottle with only one hand as he drinks – something he hasn’t been able to do since the accident.

When he’s finished she takes the bottle and kisses his hand. He looks at her questioningly, then realizes what he’s done.

“I didn’t even notice,” he muses. “I didn’t even think about it, either!”

“High five,” she murmurs and gives him five quick little kisses on the cheek. “Ready to roam?”

She hands him his shoe and helps him put it on, then ties the laces. “We should get you some of those Velcro sneakers,” she says. “Or maybe some clogs you can just slip on. How long will you still need the cast?”

“Two weeks, I think. I’m supposed to get a different one the day after tomorrow, so I can walk better.”

“That sounds great. Listen, I know Lisa has a never-ending line of volunteers to sit with you, but once you can get around better on the crutches, how would you like to be on your own for a few hours?”

He sighs deeply. “I would absolutely love that. Don’t get me wrong, everybody’s been wonderful, but sometimes you just want to be by yourself, you know?”

Tamara nods.

“Maybe we can get you an emergency call band, and a wrist monitor, so in case you fall you can get help quickly. For while, at least.”

“I can live with that,” he grins. “In twenty years I’ll need one anyway – might as well get used to it.”

She helps him up, and he notices the bear on her night stand.

“Oh! You still have the little guy?”

“Of course. I love him. See? He’s always holding the little card.”

He chuckles and she hands him the crutches, and they slowly make their way back to the stair lift and down to his wheelchair.

“I’m just going to walk to the front door, okay,” he says and shuffles his way through the pharmacy. Dale looks slightly worried but Tamara waves him off and gives him the thumbs up. When they reach the sidewalk Everett hands her his crutches, sits down in his chair and sighs deeply. “That felt good.”

“You did great,” she assures him and positions his cast in the foot rest.

“Where to next?”

“Wait and see.”

He points out trivia about buildings and events of the town as she pushes him along Main Street and further along until they reach the fanciest restaurant in Cloverdale.

“We’re going to ‘The Bridge’?”

“Sure thing! Camile said this was the best place to eat.”

Chef Mike Varro hurries to the door as he sees them come in.

“Colonel Young – it’s so good to see you up and about! And you must be Ms Johansen, it’s such a pleasure to meet you!”

They shake hands and he ushers them to a table by the window overlooking the garden with its pond and the namesake bridge. Handing them a menu he rattles off the specials of the day and they make their selection according to his recommendation.

As dusk falls thousands of small lights come on in the garden – in the colorful foliage of the trees, along walkways, in flowerbeds – even floating in the pond.

“It’s beautiful,” Tamara says between bites of the excellent meal. “So romantic.”

“Lot of folks get married here,” Everett says. “It’s just a little pricey. Oh darn, Tamara, I have no idea what all of this cost you!”

She shrugs and smiles.

“Not as much as you think. Mr. Varro wanted to contribute to your recovery – he misses the Single Dad Group – and voilà. Besides, his daughter Kiva is one of your soccer kids, and apparently she has threatened him with bodily harm if he didn’t play ball, as it were.”

And sure enough, Varro claims their meals are on the house. Tamara thanks him and he gallantly kisses her hand.

“Wanna take a stroll through the garden, Everett?”

“Sure.” She hands him his crutches but when she pulls up the wheelchair he shakes his head.

“I want to try to walk, if that’s okay. Would you mind just bringing the chair in case I don’t make it?”

She’s proud of him as he hobbles along slowly, concentrating on getting a proper rhythm going, and so they don’t talk much, but every so often he smiles at her. He stops at the little bridge.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he ponders. “It’s a little steep.” They walk the other way around the pond and at the far end he stops, and for a moment she thinks he needs to rest, but then he just looks down.

“You okay?”

He looks at her. “I’m crazy in love with you,” he blurts out. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I think you just said it,” she smiles. “And it means a lot to me, because it’s entirely mutual.” And she kisses him, taking her time, stroking his face, his neck, resting her hands on his shoulders.

“Ready to go home?” she whispers. “I got one more thing planned for today.”

He sniffles a little.

“Okay.”

“Can you make it back to the door?”

“I think so.”

“Let’s put your jacket on first – it’s getting cold.”

“All right.”

About halfway down the path he admits he’s exhausted and she helps him back into the chair and snaps the crutches into their holder.

Varro hands them a small bag on their way out.

“What’s that,” she peers into the bag.

“Our very own Apple Core Cookies,” he bows to her. “House specialty. Secret recipe – can’t get them anywhere else.”

Everett tells her on their way home that Varro is of the family that owns the Lucian Alliance Defense Contractors Cooperation, and that Mike flew in the face of family tradition by going to culinary school and becoming a chef instead.

“He turned this run-down Victorian mansion around and made it the most upscale restaurant in town, much to the dismay of his family.” He laughs. “And what really bugs them is that he’s actually doing tremendously well with it.”

“Well, more power to him,” Tamara replies. “If we all stuck to what’s expected of us we’d never get anywhere interesting.”

“You wouldn’t be here.”

“Probably not. Neither would you, for that matter. You keep surprising people, Everett. You’ve beaten the odds so many times. It’s a good thing. You are a real role model to those kids on the soccer team.”

“I’m very fond of them,” Everett says.

“And they really missed you, I could tell this morning. Well, soon enough you’ll be yelling at them again from the sidelines.”

They reach the house and minutes later the home aides’ van pulls up.

While the men give Everett his bath she heads upstairs to take a shower and wash her hair as well. She stops and turns on the light in his bedroom, gazing at the large bed and aching to feel him inside of her.

“Give it time,” she smiles to herself. “There’s still so much you can do.”

She comes downstairs just as he emerges from the guest bathroom. He looks tired and they help him to the sofa and he settles down. Tamara double checks the schedule with the aides and then they are on their way.

She snuggles up beside him, slipping her hand into his bathrobe to run her palm over his chest. “Did you have fun today?”

“I had a fantastic day. I don’t even know how to thank you. I was so depressed yesterday, but now I feel like I have a chance to beat this thing. And I owe it all to you.”

He reaches for her and kisses her.

“I want to make love to you,” he breathes, “but as long as I have this cast I just can’t. And I’m not sure that I’m actually able, even then, but I really really want to.” He takes her hands. “And I haven’t wanted to make love to anyone since before I was taken.”

She nods, not sure what to say. She doesn’t want to pressure him, wants him to know that it’s okay, that she can wait.

“I would like that, too. But in the meantime, there’s lots of things we can try. Just to see if you like it. I need to build up my Everett inventory of Stuff That Feels Good.”

He looks down at their entwined hands, as if he wanted to say something else, but then he just kisses her fingers.

She opens the belt on her bathrobe, lets it slide to the floor and straddles his lap. He kisses her throat, down to her chest, and then moves to take her left nipple between his lips. He suckles gently while kneading her breasts with both hands. She holds on to the back of his head, pushing herself closer, then switches him to her right breast. Reaching down between her legs she fingers her clit, rubs herself with the pads of her fingers. He notices and adds his hand to hers, then pushes two fingers into her. She bites her lip and moans.

“Yes, like that… deeper.” He rotates his hand, pushes harder into her. She tilts her hips to give him better access, then holds on to his shoulders as she grinds down onto his hand while he sucks hard on her breast.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning back so he can watch her pushing her own breasts up, squeezing and kneading them while he moves his fingers, now slippery with her juices. She throws her head back, closing her eyes, concentrating on riding his hand. Eventually she looks down, sees his expectant gaze and smiles at him.

“You like this,” she observes.

He nods. “I could do this all day, look at nothing else ever again.”

She kisses him, deep and hard, then buries her face against his neck.

“Make me come for you, Everett.”

He rubs her clit in small circles with his thumb and reaches up with his left hand to pinch her nipple hard. She cries out, clawing into his shoulders, and her orgasm shakes her to the core.

Holding his hand still he waits for her to ride out the waves of pleasure, as she moans against the skin of his neck, then rests her forehead against his.

“You’re amazing,” she pants, kissing him again. He strokes her flanks as she carefully wiggles off his lap and gets up.

She kneels down on the floor in front of him, hands rubbing his thighs, looking up at him.

“I want to suck you off so badly,” she whispers. “I won’t hurt you, I promise, and I’ll stop the moment you tell me to.”

He smiles at her and nods, and she gently pushes his knees apart, urging him to move closer to the edge while carefully avoiding his cast.

“Put your hands on my shoulders – that way you can push me away if it gets to be too much.”

She moves her hands closer to his groin, focuses on his half-erect cock, teasing it lightly with her fingertips.

“So beautiful,” she whispers. “You have such a gorgeous cock, Everett.”

She wraps her hand around the shaft, kisses the tip, tasting the salty bitterness of his precum. She pumps him gently, slowly, watches skin move over tissue, then takes him into her mouth. He gasps loudly as she pulls back; she releases him, placing tiny kisses along his length.

“You okay?” she looks up at him. He nods, taking a deep breath.

“Yes. You feel good.”

She smiles, wraps her lips around the head and suckles gently, swirling her tongue around the tip, dipping into the slit at the top. Then she leans forward and takes him deeply, relaxing her throat muscles, swallowing him whole. His hands squeeze her shoulders but do not push her away, and so she hollows her cheeks and pulls back slowly.

“Oh fuck,” he swears. “Oh shit, I can’t…”

She begins to suck him in earnest, moving her head in a steady rhythm, taking him in, then pulling away again. His breaths turn into moans, vocal sighs with each exhalation, and she reaches around his hips to grasp his buttocks, as his hips start moving along with her ministrations.

“Mmhmm,” she hums around his cock, taking him deep again, and his hands leave her shoulders to cup the back of her head. She can feel him getting close and concentrates on breathing around his deep thrusts, letting him set the pace now as he pushes his cock into her mouth.

A strangled groan – and then he comes; she swallows as much as she can while gasping for air between his hard movements. She wants to see his face but his head is tilted back, and she knows she’s won another small victory there.

She gently takes his hands off her head and sits up, fisting his cock again, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Wow,” she says. “When you come, you really do come something fierce!”

And she climbs up to straddle his lap again, hugging him tightly to her chest, feeling his tears on her skin, as she strokes his back.

“It’s okay, baby,” she murmurs. “Everything’s okay. You are amazing, and I want to do it again in a few minutes.” He half-laughs, half-sobs against her shoulder, and she pushes his chin up to kiss him slowly, sloppily, stroking his tongue with hers.

“Mmhmm,” he says. “Haven’t had a taste of that in a long time. Not like this, anyway.”

She cups his cheek, looks at him. “You okay?”

He smiles and nods. “Yeah. I am. I can’t believe I came just like that.” He shakes his head. “No, actually, I can. Look at you.”

He runs his hands over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, then looks up at her.

“Sometimes I think I’ve died and gone to Heaven, that you can’t possibly be real.” He bites his lip, looks away. She bends down to kiss him again.

“I’m real, all right. We were so lucky we finally found each other. I can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”

“And all because Matt passed out at the tailor’s.”

“On his wedding day!”

They laugh at the memory.

She notices him shivering and climbs off his lap, pulling his robe around him, then picking up her own.

“Anything you need before bed?”

“A glass of water, maybe.”

“Same here. Come on.” She helps him up and he leans on her for the few steps over to his bed, then she gets him situated and takes his robe from him.

She fetches two glasses of water from the kitchen and hands him one. When he’s finished she puts the glass on the night stand and moves to turn off the light, takes off her robe and joins him.

“You did great with the crutches today,” she kisses his shoulder. “We should look into moving you to your bedroom soon and getting rid of this bed.”

“I’d like that,” he sighs. “I miss my bed. And besides–“ he pulls her closer – “it’s bigger.”

She run her hand over his chest, plays with his nipple.

“I had a wonderful day today. Thank you so much. This must have taken forever to organize.”

“You have to thank Dr. Brightman, actually – it was her idea.”

“Yep, that sounds like something she would recommend. Still, it took some plotting.”

“Yeah, well... I had lots of willing helpers. And we rounded up two hundred bucks for the TBI Research Foundation. Good old Dr. Rush, eh?”

“Sometimes he just surprises me. He may be a little on the curmudgeonly side, but he’s a good guy.”

She must have fallen asleep right around then, because she dreams of Rush, laughing and smiling, and being about as un-curmudgeonly as it gets.

oOo

They’re eating breakfast at the kitchen table, before she has to go to work. Everett is still a little shaky with utensils on occasion, and so it takes her a while to notice that he’s stopped, staring at nothing.

“Everett?”

He doesn’t react.

She sees him trembling slightly, and then his spoon drops from his hand, clattering on the table and to the floor. She jumps up, realizing he’s having a seizure, and moves to support his neck and head. His arms and legs twitch a little, then he closes his eyes and exhales a long-held breath. His arms sink to the table and he looks around, confused. She supports his forehead, leaning him back against her stomach.

“Wh-what’s wrong?”

She tries to keep her calm, makes it sound like it’s no big deal.

“You just had a seizure, Everett.”

“I d-did?”

She gently lets go and kneels down beside him.

“Yes. A mild one.”

“I don’t… I don’t remember. Where’s my spoon?”

She picks it up, puts it on the table.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m… I don’t know. When did I have a seizure?”

She kisses his cheek.

“Come on. Let’s get you to the hospital. It was just a minor one, but let’s get you checked out anyway, just in case.”

She hurries to fetch the wheelchair, helps him into it and moves him outside to her car, carefully maneuvering him onto the passenger seat. Then she calls in to work to let them know, and they’re off to the hospital.

They see him right away at the emergency room and prep him for a CT scan.

Tamara waits, worried sick about his confusion, his distress, his sadness. She calls Dr. Brightman.

“I just heard,” Brightman says, “Finch called it in right away. You say he came to right after, correct? No period of unconsciousness?”

“No – he was just confused. Can’t remember a thing about it.”

“Well, we’ll see what the scans say – they will send me the file – but hopefully it’s just one of those little aftershocks. He’s probably had them almost every day, but this may be the first one you’ve witnessed.”

“You think he’s had others? I know you warned me about that, but I just never saw him.”

“In his sleep, most likely, or when you weren’t looking. They can take anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes.”

“Was I right in bringing him here? He’s pretty stressed out about it.”

“Oh, definitely, the CT scan will be very useful for comparison analysis. Better safe than sorry, anyway. But if I’m right, it’s nothing to worry about. In fact, we probably all have those little seizures, and they’re very common – they’re just not recognized as such. They’re hard to catch – impossible to predict.”

“So, this isn’t even TBI related?”

“That I can’t say. Given his history it most likely is, but there’s no way of telling, unless I see something unusual on the scan. In other words, don’t panic. I’ll get back to you when I’ve seen the scans, and then we’ll see if I need to come down or not. Okay?”

Tamara sighs. “Okay. Thanks, Alison.”

“Sure thing. Tell him to call me some time!”

“Will do.”

She puts the phone away, somewhat reassured.

Later she accompanies Everett to a room, while he rests after the scans. She holds his hand against her cheek, crying a little. He looks relaxed, if a bit exhausted.

He wakes in the dim light and smiles at her.

“Hey, what’s going on? D-did I do something stupid?”

“You had a minor seizure,” she explains again. “Dr. Brightman is looking at your scans right now. Hopefully it’s no big deal.”

“Oh.” He frowns. “I was eating breakfast.”

“That’s right. I brought you here.”

“I don’t remember… Is that bad?”

She gets up, sits on the edge of his bed.

“Not really. Dr. Brightman says we probably all have tiny seizures, we just don’t know because we don’t remember them.”

“Ah. So can I go home?”

In that moment her cell phone rings.

“Hi, it’s Alison. I’ve conferred with the brain surgeon, and neither of us can find anything unusual in the scans.”

“That’s good news!” She smiles at him and gives him the thumbs up.

“We’ll adjust his meds a little for a few days, but he should be fine. May I speak to him?”

“Sure.” She hands the phone to him.

“Hi,” he says, then listens. “Oh, that’s… yeah, good. – No, don’t remember a thing. It’s weird.” He listens again, then laughs. “I don’t think I was brought in for fun. It m-must have been scary. Uh huh.” He nods and smiles. “Okay, I will. Here’s Tamara again.”

He hands the phone back to her.

“So you think we can go home?”

“Yes – Finch will check in with you, so stick around. Call me if you have any more questions.”

“I will. Thanks, Alison.”

She ends the call, smiles at him.

“Thank you,” he says. “I’m sorry I gave you a scare.”

Dr. Finch enters and explains the scans to them, hands her a bottle of pills and instructions and then signs the release forms.

“Just take it easy today,” he says. “Stay on the sofa, watch a few movies. The pills might make you a little drowsy, so naps are a good thing. You two take care now!”

She helps him put his clothes back on, then uses a hospital wheelchair to get him back to the car. He falls asleep on the way home.

Lisa waits by the front door with the dogs. “I heard what happened,” she says, “I ran into Leanne earlier. Do you need help with anything?”

Everett is a bit of a dead weight, but they manage to get him into the wheelchair and back into the house. They tuck him in on the sofa with a few blankets and Lisa goes to make some coffee for Tamara and herself, while the dogs – as always – snooze on the rug.

“Scared the crap out of me,” Tamara says between sips.

“I bet. I already made a new list, in case you want someone here in the next few days.”

“Thank you – that’s a good idea. I’m just a little spooked by the whole thing. I mean, I’ve seen more seizures than you can shake a stick at, but this was just a bit too much déjà vu, you know?”

“I can imagine. Are you set for today or do you need to go in to work?”

“I traded shifts, so I’ll probably need an overnighter.”

Lisa checks her list. “Annie Balic just got back from Japan two days ago and she’s totally jet-lagged. Her son Mattie was on the Colonel’s soccer team in the Spring. She jumped at the chance to help. I’ll give her a call right away.”

They plan out a few more days, then Lisa calls the dogs and they leave.

Everett wakes from all the commotion and looks around groggily.

“Do you remember Annie Balic?”

He yawns. “Sure – Mattie’s mom? She just got back from Japan. Mattie stayed with the Gormans. Annie’s a dance teacher – Chloe was in her dance school until she graduated.”

Evidently his other memories were unaffected, Tamara thinks with no small measure of relief.

“Yep, exactly. She’ll show you some pictures from her trip tonight while I go to work. Is that okay?”

“If I can sleep through some of them?”

She laughs. “Of course. Want something to eat?”

“I’m not really hungry. A little nauseous.”

“It’s the meds. Okay then.” She sits down next to him and he pulls her close and gently strokes her hair.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

She shakes her head. “It’s okay. You’re fine, that’s all that matters. But you’ll have a babysitter a few more days, just as a precaution.”

“I understand. It’s a good idea.”

Later, Annie Balic shows up with a laptop and thousands of photos from Japan. “Mattie wants to stay with the Gormans for a few more days, until I’m over the time change, so I don’t have to worry about him. He’s such a good kid. So – I got all night. And I won’t be offended at all if you fall asleep on me,” she laughs.

Tamara looks at the first few pictures – Annie is a terrific photographer – and then she leaves to take over Leanne’s shift.

oOo

“My leg looks like it belongs to someone else,” he frowns about a week later, comparing his legs. “It’s like a stork’s.”

Tamara laughs. Since the seizure scare he’s made tremendous progress getting around on crutches only, and his new cast is set up to make walking easier.

“You lost a lot of muscle,” Tamara nods. “It’ll come back. Walking on it will help, just putting weight on it again – you’ll see.”

“Hmm.” He holds out his hand and accepts a squirt of skin cream, rubbing it on his spindly leg and foot. She watches him with a smile, happy that he can do those things for himself now. Every little bit helps him get better, gives him hope that he will get back to normal. Ditching the crutches for a simple walking cast has made a huge difference in his mood and attitude, she can barely keep him down now. After so much time spent in bed he’s thrilled to do some housework, cleaning and general puttering about. He’s eager to go and shovel some of the early snow but she draws the line at that, and besides, his soccer kids are taking turns to clear the driveway.

She has to admit, though, that it’s nice to come home to a fully cooked meal, clean clothes and a delighted smile, and they’ve settled into a comfortable routine.

He pats his leg. “With this cast I can climb stairs. Do you think it’s time to move back to my own bedroom?”

She kisses him on the nose. “Why don’t you try?”

“All right.” He heaves himself off the couch and limps to the stairs, reaching for the handrail and slowly but steadily, one step at a time, makes it up to the second floor.

“Wow,” he says. I haven’t been up here since… since I had one hole less in my skull. Oh! You took off the cabinet door?”

Tamara laughs. “Yep – it’s gone for good. I can’t believe this was the first time this has happened – I would have knocked my block off on that thing a long time ago. Come on.”

She leads him to his bedroom and opens the door with a flourish.

He gasps in surprise – it has been repainted, with new window dressings and bedding, a calming light blue with a dark accent wall.

“Holy smokes,” he gulps.

“Sharon Walker,” Tamara says. “Your neighbor is a great interior designer. I had to let her do it or else I would have never had a quiet moment again!”

“It’s incredible. Wow. Do you like it?”

“Yes – I helped a little, picking out colors and stuff. But the design is all hers. Here, check this out.”

She opens the en suite bathroom door.

He blinks in shock. “You re-did the bathroom, too?”

“Present from your single fathers group. Some of these guys are rather well to do. Mike Varro insisted, and I’m sure Kiva had something to do with it – she adores you. Sharon designed it as well. Look – extra large shower, Jacuzzi tub, double sinks, new dual flush toilet. The towel warmer was Camile’s idea, as were the hand rails. It’s all ADA compliant, just in case.”

“Whoa. It’s like a spa!”

“What do you think?”

He kisses her hand. “I love it. When did all of this happen?”

She smiles. “You were still in the hospital. After you had that big seizure. I had to think about making things easier for you, since we didn’t know which way it was going to go, and I sure didn’t want construction noise and dirt with you here. We were going to put in a stair lift as well, in case it was necessary, but you seem to be managing quite well as is.”

She has half a mind to tell him about a few more additions she’s had put into the bedroom, but then decides to keep it a surprise for him.

“I can’t believe it. This is beautiful! I have to thank Sharon and the dads.”

“Mike Varro and Vanessa James did the tiling and got all the wall artwork. Did you know they were dating?”

“Oh? Since when?”

“They literally met in your bathroom,” she laughs. “She came in to help with the tiling because she wanted to learn it for herself, and he taught her, and, well, apparently one thing led to another. They’ve kept it quiet so far, but Brody may soon have to look for another waitress.”

He wanders back into the bedroom and sits down on the bed with a deep sigh.

“Ooooh. So good.”

He swings his legs up onto the covers and stretches out, patting the bedding.

She smiles and climbs up, into his welcoming arms, and he kisses her thoroughly.

“You seem to bring out the best in everybody,” he nuzzles her neck.

“Oh well… just how many bathrooms have you helped renovate?”

He thinks for a while. “A good number, I guess.”

“It’s friends helping each other out. You just don’t have any idea how much you’ve done for all those people over the past several years. Everyone was happy to finally be able to do something for you.” She laughs again. “Apparently Telford and Rush had some heated discussions while painting the room. There aren’t a lot of people whose bedroom was painted by a sheriff and a JP.”

“I guess not.”

“So, we’ll keep the hospital bed downstairs for a little longer, just in case, but you can sleep wherever you want. The stairs would be good exercise.”

“Agreed. And I would be thrilled if you helped me try it all out.”

“Of course. After all, you can also have dessert anywhere you want.” She points at a corner. “Mini fridge.”

He laughs. “Or that.”

oOo

 “I’ve dreamed about this,” she says, as she lounges on the bed, watching him shave in the bathroom, like she does every night, and sometimes in the morning, if she has a late shift. He stops, catches her eye in the mirror and smiles.

“You did?”

“When I helped you shave, in the hospital. I wanted to see you do it yourself, such a normal little thing, and I just wanted to watch. Don’t stop.”

“Okay. I’m not sure I could do a wet shave yet, so anytime you want to have another go at it…” He resumes shaving. “The electric shaver I can handle. There’s not much damage I can do with this thing.”

It’s late in the day, and she appreciates it that he wants to take care of his stubble before they go to bed.

After a few minutes she gets up and snakes her arms around him from behind.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Wanna join me?”

He cranes his neck and looks at her. “Of course. I could use one, too.” He’s finished shaving and sets the razor back in the charger. She takes his hands and puts them on her chest.

“Take my clothes off,” she says, and he kisses her while undoing the buttons of her uniform shirt, pulling it up and out of her pants and gliding it over her shoulders, placing it on the counter. He kisses his way down her neck to her chest, reaches around her and unhooks her bra, caressing her breasts as the lacy fabric falls away. Kissing her again he unbuckles her belt and slides the zipper down as she steps out of her pants. Kneeling down is still difficult for him so she takes off her socks herself and shimmies out of her panties.

“My turn,” she says, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off, then sliding his t-shirt over his head. She unties his pants and puts his hands on her shoulders, as she bends down to take off his walking cast so she can pull the sweats off. She cups his cock through his boxers, briefly mouths it through the fabric, then slides them off his hips.

“Socks?”

He lifts one foot, then the other as she peels the socks off. He reaches for the handrail to steady himself while she steps into the shower to turn the water on. The low rim makes it easy for him to join her, and he can hold on to the next rail as she closes the door behind him.

“Just keep your hands on there, I’ll do the rest,” she advises. Then she lathers up a bath pouf and gently scrubs him down. Pouring some baby shampoo into her palm she taps his shoulder. “Tilt your head back a little, so I can wash your hair.” She’s very careful with his scalp, mindful of the still sore areas, massaging him with a feather-light touch.

“Hang in there, while I get myself done.”

He nods, well aware that he can’t help her yet. She’s finished in a few minutes, then turns the water down to a gentle spray. Pouring more shower gel into her hands she slides them around his waist and to his chest and stomach.

“Hold on tight,” she whispers. And she reaches down and takes his cock into her left hand, squeezing him gently, milking him, always finishing with a quick rub of her palm over the tip of his cock. He grunts and spreads his legs to improve his balance. She places her cheek against his shoulder, pumping him slowly, feeling him lengthen and fill out, feeling his erection grow as he moans with every exhalation. Shifting over towards his left side she runs her right hand down between his shoulder blades, to the small of his back, rubbing it in firm circles. She slips her fingers between his buttocks and glides lower, finding his puckered hole, pushing against it gently with a finger pad.

He twitches hard, uttering a strangled cry.

“You okay,” she asks.

“Yes,” he pants. “I’m good. I’m good.”

“Do you want me inside you?”

He nods. “Yes. Yes, please. Oh, don’t stop, don’t stop…”

And as he bears down she slips her finger into his ass, just a little bit, then pulls back and reaches for the baby shampoo, coating her fingers with it. He pushes back against her, tilting his hips, and she slides her finger all the way into him.

He groans, shifting his weight to his left leg and towards her, and she works her hands in tandem, pushing into him, then pulling down on his cock as she withdraws again.

He settles into her rhythm quickly, his hips moving, unable to escape her hands, her tight grip, her firm penetration of his body. She bites his shoulder, and he comes with a desperate shout and helpless sobs as she feels his muscles squeeze her finger hard. She tilts her hips to rub up against his thigh, and her own orgasm nearly causes her to lose her footing.

“Fuck,” he swears. “Tamara, I want… Oh, fuck…”

She pants against his skin, easing her movements on his cock, holding her finger in place in his ass.

He whimpers when she lets go of him, moves her hand up to rub his stomach, his chest, then stepping behind him, pushing deeply into his ass again.

He yelps, a pained sound of pleasure, of need, of a want so desperate it breaks her heart.

“You want another finger?” she whispers, pinching a nipple.

He nods, bites his lip.

“Hold on.” She gently withdraws, applies more baby shampoo and wiggles against his hole. He tilts his hips and she slips into his body easily, as he sobs in ecstasy. “More,” he begs. “Please, more.”

“Okay. Just a sec.”

She repeats the careful movement, then folds three fingers together, coats them and pushes into him again. She feels him stretch around her, and his hard grunts speak of pain – pain that he wants, that he needs. She pushes in but keeps her hand still otherwise, afraid of tearing him, afraid of getting carried away with his wanton desire, with her own need to know what he’s so desperate for.

She listens to his breath, steadying his hips with her hand to keep him from impaling himself repeatedly. He calms down little by little, pants turning to shuddering sighs, to deep breaths.

“I’m going to pull out now,” she whispers. “That okay?”

He bites his lip, nods.

She withdraws slowly, carefully, then gently rubs over his puckered hole.

“There,” she breathes. “All done.” And she reaches over to turn the water up higher, washing her hands thoroughly, then tending to him and cleaning him properly. She notices his legs trembling from the effort to keep himself upright, and she quickly turns the water off, opening the door and reaching for a large towel. She wraps him in the warm terry, then grabs one for herself and supports him as he limps over to the bed.

He’s weeping quietly, his eyes closed, and she hugs him closely.

“It’s all right, Everett,” she soothes him. “It’s okay to like it, even if it’s a memory you hate. If it feels good to you, it’s okay to make it your own. To own it.”

“It was so bad,” he whispers. “But I love it. I missed it so much. I needed it.”

“And now you love it? You love having things stuck up your ass while you can’t do anything about it?”

“Yes. I do.”

She kisses his damp hair.

“Birds of a feather,” she murmurs. “Because I loved doing it. And I would love for you to do it for me. I told you I was into that stuff, right? You remember, when you finger fucked me in my ass. With your pinkie. I loved having your pinkie in my ass.”

He nods.

“So I know how good it feels, and you don’t have to feel guilty anymore, because I’m happy to shove a stick or whatever into you any time you want – as long as you do the same for me. Can you promise me that?”

He swallows hard. “Yes. I promise.”

“I can’t help the way you came by this discovery, but chances are that you always loved it – you just didn’t know. It may not be forced conditioning at all. Just think about it. The world may not approve of it, but I do, I most certainly do. I understand how much it hurts, and I know how good it feels. And I’m okay with that.”

She kisses him.

“There’s so much I want to explore with you. So many things we can kink out on. Remember what we talked about when you were still in the hospital?”

“You want me to tie you up and fuck you until you scream.”

“Did that turn you on? The thought of it?”

He smiles, blushing a little. “Yes. It did.”

She kisses him. “Well, then. I can’t wait until you do. I dream about it, I just think of it and I’m all wet. I want you playing with me, shoving things into me, do whatever you want while I can’t move; I want to feel your weight pressing down on me while you spread me open and fuck me so hard I can’t sit down for days afterw–“

He rolls over on top of her and kisses her, silencing her fantasies with his tongue, and she smiles against his mouth. Then she cuddles up next to him.

“We should get ready for bed,” she finally says. “I have an early shift.” She sits up. “Let me get your cast back on.”

He watches her quietly as she wraps the Velcro straps across his shin and ankle, keeping his foot safely cocooned, then she helps him get up so he can brush his teeth. She puts their towels away, blow dries her hair and then helps him back to bed.

“We should at least try to just sleep here, a few times,” she giggles and he kisses her forehead.

“Thank you,” he says, his expression serious. “I’ve been through so much therapy, and none of it did any good. And here you are, and I can’t get enough of you. Of life. Of everything.”

And she falls asleep like that, limbs all tangled with his, warm, safe, accepted.

Home.

oOo

“I would be so honored if you moved in. For good.”

She looks up at him as they share breakfast the next morning. She takes his hand.

“Are you sure? What if Matt and Chloe come to visit?”

He smiles, a little sadly. “Those visits will be few and far in between, given the nature of their posting. And they would probably much rather have their privacy in a hotel room. I don’t know about you, but I always shuddered at the idea of my parents having a sex life.”

She laughs. “My mom died so early, and if my dad had a sex life after that I sure didn’t know about it. But I can see how that could squick someone. Although, those young whippersnappers have got nothing on us.”

“Whippersnappers?”

“That’s what grandma Carmen called young people. Anyway – it’s a pretty big decision. And I sure don’t want to pressure you.”

He smiles. “You wouldn’t. We’ve been pretty much living together for months now. I just think it would be so much more convenient for you, not to have to run back to your place all the time for this or that.”

“I just hate moving.”

“Well, let’s do a shout out to the Rileys, see if they have an opening some time soon. There’s certainly enough room here. When Emily took her stuff I never bothered replacing it. And Matt’s things should go into storage anyway, so he can get them whenever he needs to.”

She nods. “Okay. If that’s what you want – I’d love to live here. With you.”

The smile on his face warms her heart to the core and she gets up and kisses him.

“You be good now. I gotta go. Sharon will stop by later to check on you. You got your med alert on?”

He holds up his wrist.

“Good. Have a good day!”

She kisses him again as he hands her the uniform jacket, then rushes out the door.

She’s distracted at work; there’s not much going on, and she feels caged and restless.

“It’s just a pretty big step,” she admits to Leanne. Her colleague shrugs.

“You’ve never really lived in your apartment. How many nights exactly have you spent there?”

“Three.”

“Girl, it’s a technicality. Just make it official. Nobody can believe you don’t have the same mailing address yet, anyway. It’s not like you have to get married and raise a brood right away, or ever, for that matter. You love the guy, and he thinks you hung the moon. I don’t get it why you’re even thinking twice about it.”

And so she tells Leanne about her father, and her fear of substituting Everett for him.

Leanne frowns. “And what would be so wrong about that? You don’t fantasize about having sex with your dad, do you?”

“Heavens, no! But I’m sixteen years younger than he is. That’s a lot. He _could_ be my dad.”

“But he isn’t, that’s the point, and so he’s robbing the cradle – well, good for him. Are you worried about what other people might think?”

“Not about me. About him.”

“Anna Nicole syndrome?”

Tamara laughs. “Maybe.”

“He’s a retired officer. They ain’t exactly loaded, honey. People know that. And folks here know his history, and they know barely anything about you, and scuttlebutt is that, golly gee, it might just be true love.”

“I just sometimes think I’m not right in the head.”

“But you’re obviously having fantastic sex, and he’s running the house for you, and call me crazy, but I know a lot of women who’d love to be in your situation.”

Tamara blushes. “I just don’t want to do the right thing for the wrong reasons.”

“It would still be the right thing, though. Have you talked to him about it?”

“Yes. He says he doesn’t mind being a dad substitute, if that makes me feel better, because he lived and my dad didn’t.”

“And so he did. And I bet your dad would have loved him, too, because he makes his little girl happy. Don’t you think?”

She nods. “You’re right. I just… I’m crazy about him, absolutely nuts, and want this to last forever.”

“So, you gonna get married?”

“We haven’t talked about it. I don’t know if he really believes in it any more, after his divorce, and I’m not sure I do, either. And we’ve been through this sickness and health business already – nothing but, actually – so what else is there to say for it? Saving taxes?”

“Well, then I’m happy for you. Come on – let’s inventory the supplies. Today’s the day.”

“Right,” she sighs and follows her to the ambulance.

oOo

Sheriff Telford is there with him when she comes home. Everett looks up and flashes her a brilliant smile. “Hey,” he says. “Did you have a decent day?”

She kisses him, nods at the sheriff. “Nice and quiet. Hello, David. What’s up?”

Telford rubs his hands. “Nothing much. Just dropped in to say hi, as I was in the neighborhood. Ms Wray’s cat was stuck in a tree across the street. Thankfully our fire department in town still does cat rescues.”

“That was nice of them,” she smiles. “Most refuse to answer those kinds of calls these days.”

“Yeah, well, Chief Gorman is a sucker for cats. I got the scratches to prove it.” He holds up his hand.

“Oh my. Let me take a look.”

She gathers her med kit and quickly cleans the nasty gash, applies an antibiotic ointment and wraps it, while Everett tries very hard not to laugh.

“Thanks, TJ. I sure appreciate it.”

“You won’t need stitches, but keep an eye on it, for infection. Keep it clean, change the bandage often and put some neo on it every day. I assume you’ve had your tetanus shot?”

“Couple of months ago.”

“Then you should be ok.”

Telford gets up.

“Well, what do you know – I came in to talk and walked out with a wrap.” He laughs, picks up his hat and jacket and nods at them. “You have a good evening.”

When he’s gone Tamara turns to Everett. “What was that all about?”

“Emily called him to check on me. He came running to tell me, after he got the cat.”

She nods. “It’s a little awkward, I can see that.” She sighs. “Did he say how she was doing?”

“She’s pregnant again.”

“Again? She’s had kids since she left?”

“Her third. All with different fathers.” He shrugs. “It works for her – and for them. I’m just glad she’s happy, doing what she likes on the job, and she wanted to have three kids anyway. Which I couldn’t give to her.”

Tamara takes his hand. “It’s not your fault you couldn’t have kids together, or hers, for that matter. It’s probably a blessing. She would have left anyway, I guess.”

He nods. “It was hard on Matt, but I was back by then and he was busy taking care of me. And he still turned out great.”

“He did.” She snickers. “He might be a faint-hearted groom, but he’s a good man.”

“I made dinner. You hungry?”

“Ravenous. What is it?”

“Pasta Primavera. Your favorite.”

She kisses him and helps him up. The walking cast barely slows him down now.

“Oh, wow.”

The kitchen is lit by candles, a nice tablecloth on the breakfast table, fresh flowers, linen napkins – the whole nine yards.

“It was just easier in here,” he explains. “I didn’t want to mess it all up by tripping in the hall.” He pulls out her chair and she sits. She pours the wine – a sweet Italian Lambrusco, also her favorite – and opens his bottle of cranberry juice while he plates the pasta.

“Oh, this is so good,” she gushes. “What a surprise!”

He smiles proudly at his accomplishment.

“I’m not much of a cook, but there’s a few things I can do, besides MREs. And I’m going to learn a lot more now, because it’s just no fun to cook for yourself, you know? Now I can subject you to all sorts of mishaps.”

She laughs, thinking back on years of takeout and sandwiches.

“It’s fantastic. Mike Varro would be jealous.”

“He taught me, actually. All the single dads took cooking lessons from him. We all had kids to raise, so we learned what we could.”

“Okay – Mike Varro would be proud, then.”

He nods, then picks up his glass and clinks it against hers.

“To us,” he says.

“To us,” she repeats, loving the taste of the wine, the smile on his face in the candle light, his eagerness.

And her heart feels like it’s about to burst.

oOo

They clean up together, wash the dishes and put the leftovers away.

“I have the day off tomorrow,” Tamara sighs and takes another sip of her wine.

“Oh – so I get to spoil you rotten?”

She laughs. “You already did. But you know what – we have to go grocery shopping and run a bunch of errands. My car needs an oil change. And you have a check up with the neurologist as well. I wanted to be there.”

“Ah, right. They must know all my deep, dark secrets by now – with as many brain scans as I’ve had.”

She kisses the back of his neck.

“I love your deep, dark secrets. And I’m not going to share. So you better be thinking about soccer and dog walking and renovating bathrooms tomorrow.”

“Will do. Hey, I’m going back to coaching next week, if all goes well tomorrow. And I have a lunch with the single dads, too. I’m not a single dad anymore, haven’t been in years, but they still want me to hang out with them.”

“That sounds great,” she says, as she turns off the kitchen light and follows him upstairs. “Have you spoken to the Rileys?”

“Oh, yes, I forgot! They said they can do it this weekend, no problem. They’ll pack up Matt’s stuff first and then move your stuff into his room.”

“I still feel a bit weird about that, Everett, I have to admit. Like I’m pushing him out of the house or something.”

“You’re not. Look.” He opens the door to the room. “See? It’s pretty much all boxed up already. I was going to make it a guest room, but now we’ll use the downstairs room for that. So it all works out. Besides, Matt’s best man Ronald stayed here last, so it’s no big deal.”

“Okay,” she smiles and gives him a quick hug.

“We’ll keep everything in the middle of the room, so we can paint the walls when I’m out of this cast. Whatever color you want.”

“A Disney Princess bedroom?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Um, sure. A goth dungeon, if you want.”

“A dungeon would be nice, actually,” she muses. “But a second floor room is just wrong for that. Maybe we’ll renovate the basement. Disguise it as an exercise room.”

He laughs. “Done. I need to get back into shape anyway. All this lying around. This… this _stork_ leg that I have now. I want to dance at Mike and Vanessa’s wedding!”

“They’ve set a date already?”

“No. But I’m sure it’ll happen soon.”

She follows him back to their bedroom and he sits down in a stuffed chair so she can take his cast off.

“I want to suck you off in the shower,” she says casually. “May I?”

“In the shower?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? I mean, inhaling water and all that?”

She smiles. “I’ll show you. Come on.”

She pulls his socks off and then watches him undress himself without her help. He still struggles with certain mobility issues, needs a few tries with others, and it takes him a while overall, but he’s doing remarkably well.

“Go on,” she says. “I’ll be right there.”

And while he showers she runs back downstairs and picks up a case she brought from her apartment, placing it on the bed. It’s time for him to take the next step.

oOo

“Okay – turn your back to the wall and hold on to the rail with your hands. That’s it.” She turns the shower down so it hits mostly his back, then kneels down in front of him, taking his half-erect cock in her hand.

“Hello, beautiful,” she smiles, and takes the tip in her mouth, looking up at him. He bites his lip. She takes him deep, pulls back, then releases him and tilts her head to mouth his balls. He sucks in a sharp breath as she tongues the sensitive skin there while she pumps him with her hand.

“Does that feel good?”

He nods. “Yes,” he breathes. “Oh, nice…”

She takes her time, sucks him off leisurely, careful not to stimulate him too much right away. She wants this to last, wants to draw out his sweet agony. Switching him to her hand again she looks up at him, his open panting mouth, his hooded eyes, and she knows he’s the most beautiful man alive. The thought almost makes her cry, and so she takes him down her throat again, sucking him harder, faster. He moves his hips to match her rhythm.

“Yes,” she gasps, taking a quick breather. “Fuck my mouth, Everett. I love your cock down my throat. I want you to come all over me.”

And then she swallows him again as he whimpers, his knees buckling a little.

“Oh crap,” he swears, “I’m coming, Tamara, I can’t… I’m com-“

His words turn into hard grunts as she milks him, his come splattering all over her chest. She keeps working him, urging him on, mouthing his shaft, rubbing his thighs.

He moans as she gets up and wraps her arms around him.

“You’re so hot when you come,” she whispers into his ear. “I could watch you forever, listen to you. You’re so fucking gorgeous…”

She turns the water up again, rinses them both off as he catches his breath, barely able to keep himself upright. She kisses him, then nibbles on his jaw.

“Go on and dry off,” she says. “I’ll be done in a minute.”

He nods and steps out of the shower, wrapping himself in a towel, then he puts on his bathrobe, dries his hair and shaves. He holds out the towel to wrap her in it as she comes out of the shower. “Full service,” she grins. “Thank you.”

He helps her into her bathrobe, then motions for her to sit down so he can blow dry her hair. She giggles as her long strands are blown across her face – a stylist he’s not, but she loves the attention, his fingers running through her hair. She looks at herself in the mirror and bursts out laughing. “I think we need this,” she hands him her hairbrush.

He carefully untangles her hair with gentle movements, brushes it with deep concentration, and she loves watching him in the mirror.

“What do you think?”

Actually, the end result isn’t half bad, she has to admit.

“Ready to knock Miss Universe flat on her ass,” she claims and gets up.

She turns off the lights in the bathroom. “Are you up for something else?”

He nods. “I want to do something nice for you. Make you come for me.”

“Oh, you will. Get up there,” she indicates the bed.

“What’s in the case?”

“Well, go take a look.”

He opens the lid, does a double take and looks at her with big eyes.

“Wow,” he says. “I’ve never seen this many toys in one place.”

She laughs. “I collect. There’s a new lube I want to try out – almond essence. It’s supposed to be good for your skin, too.” She hands him the bottle, flips the top open. “Smell that.”

He sniffs. “Whoa,” he says. “That’s nice. Tell me what you want.”

“Well…” she opens her bathrobe and climbs up on the bed. “First we’re going to put your cast back on. Then we’re going to put that towel over there on the bed so we don’t mess up the sheets. And then you’re going to shove a few things into me until I howl. How’s that sound to you?”

He nods, biting his lip again.

“Don’t worry – you can stop at any time – and I’ll finish it for you, and you can just watch. All right?”

“All right.”

She goes to fetch his cast and puts it on his foot. They spread the large bath towel over the bedding and then he scoots back up on it. She hands him the lube and pulls the case over.

“Pick one.”

He rummages for a moment, then takes out a slim pink vibrator.

“That’s a good start, just to open me up. Now find a bigger one for later. Maybe that purple one there.”

“That’s big.”

She shrugs. “Most people crap stuff bigger than that.”

That makes him laugh. “You have a way of looking at these things…”

“Just what it is. Now remember: I love you so much I’m like _this_ close to going totally insane. This is what I want. It will make me feel good. And I promise you I will come for you like never before. But in return you have to promise me to stop the moment you’re not comfortable with anything. Okay? Because if you’re not cool with it, I won’t enjoy it. Promise?”

“Yes. I promise.”

“Good.” She kisses him tenderly. “Now, how about one for my girly bits. Maybe something that’s your size. For practice.”

He holds up a white vibrator. “This one?”

“Hmm.” She sucks on the tip, pulls it into her mouth. “Nope. Not big enough.”

“Seriously?”

She laughs and kisses him again. “You’re so precious,” she whispers against his mouth. “Seriously, for your height you’re hung like a horse. I guess it’s different for a guy, but most tend to think they’re bigger than they really are.” She indicates a distance of about four inches. “Yeah, girl, it’s eleven inches long,” she rumbles in a mock male voice.

He chuckles. “Male inches, obviously.”

She laughs out loud. “Exactly. Okay – which one? How about the chrome one?”

“It’s heavy. Shaped a little different, too.”

“You wanna try that?”

“Sure. Tamara…”

“Yes?”

He presses his lips together, shakes his head.

“This is kind of like what they used on me. It was longer. And it had an electrical charge. I didn’t want any of it back then.” He closes his eyes. “Bad memories.”

She touches his hand.

“These are mine. I bought them for me – for us. I love them all, and I love to feel them inside my body. And it will be even better because you’ll be the one pushing them into me. If it’s too much you just stop. – Did it feel good to you then?”

“Yes,” he whispers. “I just didn’t want it.”

“Do you want it now?”

He nods.

“Then allow yourself to enjoy it. Because I will. If you feel you need permission, you got it.”

“Okay.”

“Now one more, to put on my clit.”

“This one?” He pulls out a black massage vibrator.

She gently strokes his cheek. “Perfect. Start with your fingers. There are wipes in the box. Then watch me go into orbit.”

That makes him smile.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

She peels off her robe, turns around and settles down on her elbows and knees, shuffling backwards close to him, then placing her shoulders and cheek on the towel. She puts her hands on her buttocks and pulls them apart, exposing herself to him completely.

“Like what you see?” She tilts her hips up more.

“Yes,” comes his breathless reply.

“Put some lube on your fingers. You know how much I love your pinkie in my ass.”

She feels him touching her buttocks, feels the slick coolness of the lube against her hole, feels the hard tip of his crippled finger rubbing her, feels her muscles twitch in response. She welcomes the gentle pressure and bears down, and his pinkie slips into her with ease. She sighs with pleasure as he rotates his wrist, coating her evenly inside. His finger withdraws, then enters again with more lube, and again, until she feels the moisture running along her already damp folds.

She places her palms on the towel, pushes closer to him, then feels the pressure of the slim toy against her. She moans as he slowly penetrates her with it.

“Tamara?”

“I’m good… Oh, this feels good. Would you move it a little?”

He slides it in and out, rotates it, wiggles it in small circles, then pulls it all the way out and quickly pushes it into her again, encouraged by her soft sigh and pleased hum. She can tell he’s getting more comfortable with it now as he plays with her ass, turning the vibrator to a low setting, then slips a finger between her folds to rub her gently, then suddenly plunging it deeply into her. Her breath catches, hips bucking a little.

“Would you like the bigger one now?” He kisses her buttock.

“Mmhmm, yes, please.”

His finger withdraws, and she moans as he turns off the toy and slips it out of her as well. She feels his hands stroking the insides of her thighs, pushing outwards, spreading her legs wider. She holds on to her knees, waits for his touch, then pushes back when she feels the bigger vibrator pushing against her. He turns it on, allows it to enter just barely, then applying gently pressure.

It hurts, and she concentrates on letting go, keeping her breathing steady as her muscles adjust to the intruder.

“Damn,” she hears him mutter in amazement. “This is so incredibly amazing… to see you stretched open like this.”

She whimpers as he strokes her buttocks and rubs her clit while he keeps pushing in until she’s about to ask him to stop.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Oh, wow…”

She feels his fingers applying more lube to her stretched hole, loving the gentle massage, as she breathes through the quickly lessening pain. She closes her eyes.

“You okay, Everett?”

She feels him kissing her buttock again. “I’m good. It must be hurting you, though.”

She nods. “Yes. But it’s good, I got it. I love how gentle you are. I feel so full. It’s great.”

“I had no idea how unbelievably hot this is,” comes his whisper. She smiles.

“Told you so. Can you turn it up a bit?”

She nearly jumps as the buzz increases in volume, tickling her, relaxing her muscles. She sighs.

“I’m ready for the next one. But leave this one in, okay?”

“Okay.”

She hears the squirt of the lube bottle. “This one’s nice and warm now,” he says. “I had it tucked between my legs – that metal felt so cold.”

She smiles against the towel, then lifts her head and turns it to rest the other cheek on the bed. “You’re so sweet,” she murmurs. “Now shove that thing into me before the first one makes me come all by itself!”

She feels him parting her folds, probing her carefully with the blunt tip, then angling it upward and pushing in. She cries out – the pain, the fullness is almost too much to bear. Feeling him stop she groans in frustration. “Deeper,” she grunts with effort. “Please, oh fuck, deeper. More more more.”

She hears him take a deep breath, feels the toy slide home.

His fingers on her clit make her yelp and buck her hips, as she’s gasping for air.

“Everett, I need to lie down.”

She lowers herself down on her left side and he helps her roll over, placing her feet against his shoulders.

“Better?”

“Much better. Oh, I like this. It gives me purchase. I never thought of that. And I can see your face.”

She smiles at him, moving her hands to her breasts and kneading them while he places both of his thumbs on her clit, pressing lightly on either side. His face shows utter concentration but every so often he looks at her, searches her features for signs of pain, but she’s far beyond that stage now.

“Could you please turn them up higher?”

He nods and adjust the settings and her hips come clear off the bed, heels digging into his shoulders as she cries out at the increased stimulation.

“I’m so close,” she moans. “Oh fuck, oh fuck… go get the last one now. I’m so ready I could burst!”

He reaches for the black vibrator, turns it on and teases her clit with it. She gulps in deep breaths, her hands clawing into the sheets. “Yes,” she moans, “oh yes, that’s it. Turn it up.”

He adjusts the setting, then presses it gently against her clit, squirting on some more lube and running it in small circles around her sweet spot.

She can feel it coming, a tidal wave, sweeping her up, and she screams, her entire body convulsing, the hot wave washing over her, blinding her, whipping her up off the bed, and she can’t control any of it; she screams, then holds her breath as her hips buck up, leaving nothing but her head and shoulders to support her, strangled cries of intense pleasure-pain.

It’s all too much, her groans turn into racking sobs, as he drops the vibrator and reaches underneath her thighs, pulling her up towards him and sucking on her clit, supporting her lower back with his hands. She twitches violently as one contraction after another hits her. She expels the vibrator from her rectum and he sets it aside, then gently pulls out the other one while she yelps in pain at the loss.

“Shhh,” he says, gathering her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin. “Shhh, baby, it’s all right, I’m right here.” And as the tears stream down her face he rocks her slowly in his lap, while the lube seeps from her body onto his legs.

She cries for a long time, while he just holds her, stroking her back, kissing her face, petting her hair as she burrows against him.

“You okay,” he finally asks quietly. She nods and sniffles, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

“I’m fine. This was just… oh fuck, this was intense. I’ve never had anyone do this for me.”

He opens his bathrobe to wrap her in it as well and she cuddles up against him, her fingers drawing tiny circles on his chest.

“Are you in pain?”

She shakes her head. “Just sore. It’ll pass.”

Finally she moves to look at him, reaches for his face and kisses him tenderly, slowly.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for being there for me. For understanding. For taking me to the edge and catching me again.”

He smiles. “You were right. Wow, that was some orgasm. I thought you were going to pass out.”

“Le petit mort.”

He kisses her forehead. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Everett?”

“Mmhmm?”

“I love you so much. You may never know what this means to me.”

“I think I have some idea… It’s setting something free, watching it soar.” He shakes his head. “I’m a lousy poet. But that was poetry, right there.”

“I want to do this again and again. I want you to take me places I’ve only ever dreamed of. And I want you to be with there with me, because that’s what’s best about it: that there’s someone with the courage to help me. Let me go. To share. Someone who _knows_.”

“I loved every second of it. And I want to be the one who makes you come like that.”

“Anytime,” she sighs. “Whenever you’re ready to take that plunge – I’ll be there to catch you.”

“Not tonight, though.”

“No, not tonight.” She snickers. “Look at this mess.”

“This almond-flavored mess. It really does taste good. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He takes his cast off and they take another quick shower, and this time it’s him washing her, carefully, thoroughly. She’s dead on her feet, barely able to brush her teeth, and he ushers her under the covers while he puts the towel in the wash and cleans the toys.

“I love you,” she murmurs sleepily when he finally joins her, tangling his limbs with hers. He kisses her.

“And I love you.”

oOo

She’s quiet the next day, feeling clingy, wanting to be near him all the time. She’s so proud of him, watching him walk into the neurologist’s office without any help, limping just slightly with the cast. She knows the scan is a basically a quick thing, but it feels like forever while they set the IV for the contrast dye, and then she waits with him until it’s his turn, her head on his shoulder. She’s nervous while he’s gone, pacing the waiting room, until they finally allow her into the recovery room, and she holds his hand while they remove the IV, and they wait for the results.

“Everything looks great,” the doctor says. “Whatever it is you’re doing – it’s the right thing, so keep doing it. When is the cast coming off?”

“Next week,” Everett says. “My soccer team needs me back.”

The doctor stares at him, aghast. “He coaches,” Tamara is quick to interject, much to his relief.

They get an oil change for her car while strolling through the mall, then head for the grocery store. Everett looks thoughtfully at the cart while they’re waiting in the checkout lane.

“What,” she asks.

“The last time I was here I bought some CFLs at the hardware store afterwards, then went home and knocked a hole in my head.”

“And cheated me out of a movie.”

“Right… the one with the alien plant popping out of the ground. Matt hated it, Chloe loved it. Go figure.”

“I’m sure it’s something Freudian,” she giggles and he concurs.

They stop at the drycleaners to pick up a few of her uniform sets, then have dinner at Brody’s Tavern.

Vanessa hurries over to them, holding up her hand.

“Whoa,” Everett says. “That’s not just a rock… that’s a freakin’ erratic!”

Vanessa laughs and Tamara hugs her. “Congratulations! So, when’s the big day?”

“We haven’t decided yet. It’ll be a while, though. Kiva thinks we’re procrastinators. But I have a hard time thinking about leaving this place anyway.” She gestures around, then goes off to bring them their food.

Brody sits down with them for a while.

“Damn, it’s good to see you actually walking back in here again,” he says, clapping Everett on the shoulder. “More pickles?”

Tamara laughs and then Brody leans in. “So you heard about Vanessa, right? Guess who else met in your bathroom? Lisa Park and Dale Volker!”

“Really? But they’ve know each other for years.”

“Yeah, but they finally ‘met’,” Brody says with air quotes. “Darren’s all in a huff ‘cause apparently now it’s your bathroom where people hook up, and not the Clova anymore.”

“Well, I don’t know who else worked on the bathroom and ‘met’ someone there, but it’s now closed to the public,” Everett laughs, putting his arm around Tamara and pulling her close.

They catch up on more town gossip and finally they head back home.

“I’ve got the late shift all next week,” Tamara says while they put the groceries away. “So I won’t be home until after midnight. But we can sleep in every day if you want. When is your soccer practice?”

“Eleven in the morning and two in the afternoon.”

“All right, - I’ll tag along, and then I’ll go straight to work from there. I can bring you a lunch, if you want.”

“You want to deprive me of the wholesome, nutritious chow at the school cafeteria?”

“I do indeed. You need to rebuild your muscle, not a life preserver.”

He laughs. “Point well taken. Oh, and the Rileys are still moving your stuff tomorrow?”

“Yes. Volker’s going to let them in. They will move Matt’s stuff into storage first and have the first load of my things here by early afternoon. The Home Care people will come over as well and pick up the hospital bed. I’ll be glad to see that thing go, even if it was the perfect solution at the time.”

“Then maybe it’s best if we’re somewhere else. All that traffic…How about a daytrip to Denver?”

“Oh, I’d love that. We could go to the planetarium at the Science Museum. See if there’s a concert at the Symphony.”

“Too bad it’s too cold for Red Rocks. I saw the Moody Blues there, years ago, when they played with the big orchestra.”

“Seriously? I saw that same concert in Seattle, with my dad.”

“Well then – Denver it is.”

Later on they watch the local news while she sips some Lambrusco and he sticks with the usual cranberry juice.

“Thankfully, I love that stuff,” he says, holding up his glass. “But I sure look forward to a little wine when I’m finally off the meds. Although that may be a while yet.”

She sets her glass down, then takes his as well, turns off the TV and climbs into his lap, snuggling up close. He holds her tight, rubs her back.

“What’s the matter?”

She kisses his chest and presses her face against his neck.

“Don’t ever leave me, Everett,” she whispers.

He frowns. “I won’t, I promise. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just want you close today. And always.”

He strokes her back and nods.

“I understand. You gave it all up last night, for me, and it’s pretty Earth-shattering, isn’t it? To come apart like that for someone else.”

She nods.

“You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You saved my life, and made what little there was left worth living again. I owe all of that to you. And to know that you trust me so much, it’s overwhelming for me, too.”

He kisses her hair.

“You make it okay for me to be comfortable with myself. And I thought I would never find that place within me again. I think somehow you knew that all along. I’m just a little slow on the uptake sometimes. I’ve never had to think that way – I wasn’t raised that way, never lived that way. I have so much to learn from you.”

She sits up and kisses him. And everything she has to say is already there.

oOo

Hunter Riley shows up while they’re having their morning coffee and Everett hands him the house keys and shows him the room. “Any overflow can go in the basement for now. Just be sure everything gets labeled.”

Riley laughs.

“As if anything we ever move didn’t have a label. Hey, look: QR code generator! My newest toy. Hooked up to my smartphone, so I can send files and everything. No more clipboards!”

They watch him roll out the clear sticky mats for the movers, and then they pack up their bags and bundle up for the day and get into her car.

“I’m so glad I don’t have to be there,” Tamara sighs, and they’re off. It’s not a very long drive to Denver, and they’re heading straight for the Museum for Nature and Science to catch the late morning show at the planetarium, then spend some time looking at the exhibits.

They have lunch at a small Mediterranean restaurant nearby and then drive to the concert hall for a matinee with the Colorado Symphony Orchestra. Everett suggests afternoon tea at the Offshoots Café in the Botanical Garden, and then they stroll through the snow covered gardens for a short while.

Back in the car Everett asks her to turn off the main road; they park the car and she hooks her arm under his. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

A block further down the road they find themselves at the entrance of the Medical School campus. She stops dead in her tracks, then turns to him. “Everett?”

“I spoke to Alison about your dream of becoming a doctor. I think it’s time we started looking at your plans and acted on them. She said she would support your application, and your good GPA and pre-med biology degree and paramedic experience will up your chances at a scholarship.”

He kisses her gently. “If you still want to do it, I’ll be your biggest cheerleader. You won’t have to worry about a thing except your studies, and I’ll take care of everything else. It’s your decision, of course.”

She can’t help it – she breaks into tears, and he gathers her in his arms. “You can take all the time you need to think about it,” he whispers. “But if it’s what you want we’ll make it happen.”

She nods, laughing underneath her tears. “I want to do it. Oh, Everett, I don’t know what to say.”

“Alison will be in Cloverdale on business this week, so while I’m at soccer practice, you two can talk shop and figure out what needs to be done.” He leads her back to the car. “I think you will be a terrific doctor. I know you want to be a brain surgeon, and I know all of our friends will support you every step along the way, so money is not an issue. And we’re close enough that you can drive, and we can get you a room, too, in case you’re too tired to drive back at night, or if the weather is just vile. Or I can come and get you. By then I should be able to drive again.”

“You got this all planned out, haven’t you?”

He smiles. “I’ve had a lot of time to think in that hospital bed.”

“Okay. Med School, here I come!”

“Alison will bring you a carload of books, so you can study for the MCAT. If you begin now you could start school next Fall. That leaves us plenty of time to prepare and organize.”

She looks at him – he’s almost bouncing with excitement, and she has to laugh again. “You look as if you’re the one going off to school.”

He nods. “Well, in a way, I will be. I’ll make sure you have the time to study, so you should probably consider a part-time job. General O’Neill has already agreed to send another medic to help out. Besides, the last three guys really enjoyed their time here, so filling in for you won’t be a problem.”

They get into the car and she sighs deeply. “Thank you, Everett. You’re absolutely right – this is the time to jump at the opportunity. I’m ready for the challenge.”

On the drive home she feels his eyes on her the whole time, and his happy smile warms her heart. She knows that without him she would have never taken this step, would have dreamed about it for the rest of her life. Having a good support system, being able to fully concentrate on her studies – she’s never had that luxury before. Another piece of her life seems to have fallen into place, and she knows she owes it all to a nervous groom passing out at the tailor’s hours before his wedding.

oOo

When they arrive back home Hunter Riley has just finished pulling up the sticky mats. “All done,” he grins. “Now, would you please stay put for a while?”

Tamara laughs and gives him a quick hug. “Thank you, Hunter. You got the bill ready?”

He rolls his eyes at her. “It’s been paid already. Courtesy of Matt and Chloe. Chloe said she would slit my throat if she wasn’t allowed to pay for it.”

“You heard from Chloe?”

“No. She called my parents on her last visit, a couple of months ago, I guess; apparently she had an idea that this would happen. Anyway, the furniture is upstairs, already covered with plastic so you can paint; everything else is in the basement, boxed up, color-coded and inventoried.”

He hands her a CD. “The file’s also on your email. Oh, and the Home Care folks picked up the bed around noon. Looks like you can do some living in your living room again. And-” He rummages in his shoulder bag and carefully pulls out the yellow teddy bear in a large Ziploc bag and hands it to her. “Special handling, as requested.” He winks at her and gives Everett a sloppy if well-meant salute as he leaves.

“Wow,” Tamara says. “I’d forgotten what this room looked like without the bed. Let me take a look downstairs real quick.” She hands him the bag and hurries down into the basement.

Hunter hasn’t been kidding. The actual boxes are in different colors with large labels and an inventory list stuck on everything.

“Seriously,” she says to Everett as she comes back upstairs, “These guys could make a fortune moving people like this. I can’t believe they’re not doing this full time. Do those government types have any idea at all how good they have it?”

He hands her the bear back. “Probably not. I’m guessing they never have any issues finding anything, so they never think about it.”

“And it’s certainly steady work, to do government contracts. I just hope the Rileys know they are appreciated. I wonder whether they use those colored file boxes for the government stuff, too?”

Everett laughs. “I doubt it – the two businesses are completely separate. The private firm is in Hunter’s name; different trucks, separate equipment.”

There’s a knock on the back door and Everett greets Camile and Sharon from next door. Camile brandishes a pie with great flourish. “Apple pie,” Sharon explains. “Camile is into traditional house-warming gifts.”

Camile sets the pie down on the kitchen counter. “Okay, so you’re not actually moving in as such, but we all missed out on the occasion when Ev came home from the hospital, and I guess you just stuck around, so…” She shrugs. “Better late than never. Mattie Balic picked the apples himself – they have a tree at their house – and he brought us a bunch.”

“Thank you both,” Everett smiles. “I guess at some point we do have to hold a proper house-warming party. With the hospital bed gone we actually have room now.”

Sharon nods, “I saw them moving it today. Well, enjoy the pie, and have a lovely evening!”

Tamara sees them to their backdoor, thanking them again.

“Everybody’s been so nice to me,” she says. Sharon looks at Camile with a smile. “We’re a close-knit bunch here. Most of us are in the Air Force, or retired, or somehow connected to the Service. It’s a family of sorts.”

She nods, then returns to the house. Everett has already cut the pie and plated two wedges, scooping vanilla ice cream on top.

“Perfect,” she says and digs in. “This is how I like vanilla.”

He chuckles. “That’s one way to put it. I do like your darker flavors, too.”

oOo

She spends most of the next few days at the hospital, meeting with Dr. Brightman. They go over the timeline for the application, the sheer endless paperwork and supporting materials and general logistics. “You’re gonna have to study, of course, but I have no doubt you’ll ace the MCAT,” Brightman says. “You have my number. Dale Volker is eager to help with chemistry, and Lisa Park is your physics go-to person. And I hear they’re together now, so that works out perfectly.”

“I can’t wait to get started.”

“Oh, and Everett pulled some strings with the General again, I’m sure he told you. One of our base medics’ wife is pregnant, and it’s a complicated case, so they’re putting him into the Cloverdale unit, part-time, in your place, until she delivers. She’s about three months along, so you’ve got a while. Serendipity, I tell you.”

“Whew, this is a lot of stuff. When do I go to part-time?”

“Well, I spoke to your dispatcher and the other medic, and we’re set for next Monday, if that works for you, since you’ve got the late shift this week.”

“It’s all a bit sudden, but yes, that works for me. I hate to give up so much of my job, but I know it’s necessary.”

“If you feel you can handle the load you can always job in by the hour, or on demand, and at peak times. Now, how’s Everett doing?”

“He’s great. The cast is off for good now. He’s started working out to build up his muscles and stamina again. He wants to run a marathon next Fall, so he’s walking a lot to get the mobility in his foot up. He’s been at soccer practice all week, and he’s just glowing with excitement. It’s so nice to see him so happy.”

“I’m pleased to hear that. If anyone deserves a little happiness, it’s him. You’ve made such a big change in the man – it’s just a miracle to me. And believe me – I’ve seen him at his worst more than once. Somehow he always pulled through. This time I know it was you. I’ve been his doctor for a long time now, and he’s still coming to terms with his POW experience. And he’s made tremendous progress since he met you.”

“I like to believe that it’s a mutual thing. We’re good for each other. And he’s been an incredibly positive force in my life. I really thought I had it all – and then I met him.” She smiles at the memory. “I’m just glad we found each other.”

“Believe me, so am I. Now, I’m confident you will get a scholarship, but you should still discuss it with an expert. I believe your neighbor Ms Wray is in HR, and she can advise you on tax deductions and such. I know Everett is prepared to sell his soul to put you through school, but there are ways to minimize costs even without a scholarship, or just a partial one. The Air Force has programs as well. I’m sure she can explain it all much better and in full detail.”

They set up a study plan and by the end of the week they have everything organized, up to the first day of school. Every night she fills Everett in on the plans and afterwards he tells her about his day.

“I’ll be glad when you’re not on the late shift anymore,” he yawns. “I miss you. I miss having sex with you, spending time with you.”

“I’m off on Sunday.”

His smile makes her heart beat faster.

oOo

“Wanna play doctor?” she asks him mischievously after they are finished with the Sunday paper. His eyes snap up at her, and she laughs at his expression. “We’ll let you be the one who gets to fuck the med student.”

“Uh… sure… What did you have in mind?”

She jerks a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the upstairs.

“All right. Go ahead, I’ll clean up the kitchen real quick.”

She gives him a quick kiss and watches him gathering the brunch dishes. Then she winks at him and hurries upstairs, setting out the supplies for her plan. She places the various boxes near the bed, spreads a waterproof sheet over the covers and puts a calming New Age CD in the stereo.

She hears him coming up the stairs – still one step at a time – and vows to help him with his workout to help his foot regain its strength.

He smiles as he enters the room and closes the door. “Okay – I’m all yours,” he says.

“I want you to fuck me,” she explains without preamble. “Hard and deep and for real. If you feel ready, and I think you are.”

She points at a box of softly padded restraints. “I want you to tie me up this time. I know that’s a difficult thing for you to do, but I promise you, it’s my big turn-on.”

He nods. “I know. And I want to do it for you. Because if you enjoy it, I will, too.”

She smiles, hearing the echo of her own philosophy. “Good. Now, two ground rules, not for right now but later today. One: if either one of us feels uncomfortable, we can stop it at any point for any reason, without explaining. We’ll have a safe word, and the moment one of us says it, it’s over. Two: absolutely no blood. If there is so much as a droplet, that’s the end. Can we both agree to this?”

“Yes. I like that. It’s kind of what scuba divers learn – any diver can end any dive at any time for any reason without justification. It makes perfect sense. And I’m with you on the blood issue.”

“Great. You scuba?”

“Not actively. I had all the training, for special ops. I’d like to try it for fun some time.”

“So do I. Let’s take a proper scuba course together, and then maybe head for the Caribbean at some point.”

“Deal. What’s the – what did you call it – the ‘safe word’?”

“Well, it should be easy to remember and not something you say casually when you’re in the throes of ecstasy, because you don’t want to ruin a good thing, either.”

“Okay… what about ‘blood’? Two birds with one stone.”

“Okay, ‘blood’ it is. Are you okay with all this?”

“I’m surprised at myself, but yeah, I am. I want to do whatever it is you need me to. I’ve loved everything you’ve ever asked of me, so I can’t imagine this will be any different. I trust you, Tamara.”

“And I trust you. It’s important we both know that.”

He nods. “What’s first?”

She holds up a hot water bottle, hose and nozzle.

“I want you to clean me out good. I’ve been to the bathroom this morning, so I’m probably fine, but I’ve been fantasizing about you giving me an enema for a long time.”

“I can do that,” he nods and follows her into the bathroom. She runs the hot water, tests it on her inner wrist and waves him over. “This is good. Go ahead and fill the bottle.”

“You want the whole thing?”

“I doubt I can take it all, but just in case, sure, fill it up.”

He’s careful to squeeze out the air from the bottle before attaching the hose and nozzle, and she tests the flow in the sink. “Perfect. Now remember, you have the same right to stop it as I do.”

“I understand.” He picks up a few extra towels and follows her. She quickly assembles a stand and hangs up the bag, then hands him the nozzle.

“It’s a double balloon nozzle. You know how these work?”

“I think so, but run it by me again.”

“You need to push it in past this point. This part is actually a balloon you need to inflate, so I can’t expel it all right away. There’s another balloon on the outside to hold it all in place; you just squeeze these pumps a few times. Between them everything will stay put.”

Then she climbs up on the bed, spreading her knees, resting her forehead on the backs of her hands.

“I’m ready. Don’t forget the lube.”

“I won’t,” he promises, and she hears the squirt of the bottle. To her surprise it’s his crippled pinkie that slips into her ass and she moans in delight.

“Oh, Everett, I love the pinkie!”

He chuckles. “I know. The pinkie loves you, too.”

He moves his stiff digit in and out, applying more lube, coating her insides well.

She hears another squirting noise and wiggles her ass in anticipation. He chuckles.

“Eager, no?”

“Very,” she admits. “Go ahead – fill me up.”

She loves his hands on her ass, loves his fingers parting her buttocks, loves his gentle touch, the slow and steady glide of the nozzle into her body.

“Comfy?” He carefully inflates the balloons.

“Yeah. Turn it on, just a little for now.”

She can’t help the squeal that escapes her as the warm water begins to seep into her.

“You okay?”

“Fantastic. This is great. You can turn it up a little.”

She starts feeling the water going faster, then hears him move, kneeling up between her legs. He strokes up her thighs, then moves his hands to her belly, rubbing her gently. The pressure eases up as the water is pushed deeper into her gut and she sighs with relief.

“Where did you learn that?”

“Oh, this used to be the best part of my day.”

“They gave you enemas, too?”

“Every morning. I’ve never been so squeaky clean again in my whole life.”

“I’m sorry, Everett. I didn’t know. You want to stop?”

“No, I’m okay. This is different. It was your idea, and you’re obviously loving it.”

“I am.”

He massages her belly, pushing the liquid around inside of her. “I learned a thing or two about enemas.”

“And I’m so thrilled you’re sharing them with me. Oh, this feels good. Harder. Dig in. I won’t break.”

He kneads her abdomen, using his thumbs, his fingers, the heels of his hands. She groans loudly.

“Oh fuck, I’m so full.”

“Almost done. Had enough?”

She grunts, the fullness bordering on pain now. “I think I can take the rest. Just be sure to clamp the hose right away.”

“I will.”

She takes deep breaths, concentrating on relaxing, then she hears him say “That’s it. Here goes the clamp.”

She feels the flow stop and bites her lip. “I’m okay.”

He kisses the small of her back, then helps her to lie down on her left side, massaging her distended stomach, then rolling her over onto her back.

“Damn,” she says. “I look like I’m six months pregnant or something.” He rubs her in counterclockwise circles, then pushes her legs apart and raises her knees. Kneeling down between them he reaches out with both hands, kneading her belly hard.

“Oh fuck,” she swears, closing her eyes. “I think it’s gonna come out through my nose soon!”

He smiles and keeps rubbing her, more gently now, then bends forward and licks her clit. She yelps in surprise, lifting her head and looking at him.

“Again?”

“Yes,” she gasps. “Again, please!”

And she watches as he bends down and latches onto her, teasing her with his tongue. She cries out with the overload of sensation, and he wraps his arms around her thighs, holding her legs still while he suckles on her. She pants hard as he keeps up the stimulation, then reaches around and pushes two fingers into her. Her hips buck up off the bed and she wails in pain, the pressure in her belly almost too great to bear now. His fingers withdraw as he keeps tonguing her, and then she feels something push against her, something hard and pointed, a buzzing vibrator, and she screams as it quickly slides into her body. She comes, bucking hard against him, no purchase against the bed as he’s clasping her legs tightly.

“Oh shit,” she cries out, as the contractions of her orgasm shake her hard. He holds her firmly, waits for her to stop moving, kissing her stomach, murmuring soothing words she can’t understand.

Her cries turn into gasps, then shuddering breaths.

“Okay?”

She swallows hard, nods. “I’ve never… I had no… wow, Everett. I’m a little…” She winces in pain.

“I’m cramping… I gotta go now.”

“All right. Roll over to the other side. Try to hold it in, as best you can.”

She rolls over with a pained groan as he gets up and carefully deflates the balloons, gently pulling the nozzle out. “Come on.”

She grunts as she gets up and leans on him as she makes her way to the bathroom. He helps her to the toilet and she’s barely sat down when the water starts to flow from her body. He kneels down in front of her, puts her head on his shoulder and gently strokes her back as she relaxes slowly, moaning with relief.

“I’m okay now,” she says after a few minutes and leans back. “Give me a little while. That was a lot of water.” He smiles and gets up, reaches for a towel and drapes it around her shoulders.

“I’ll go clean up,” he says and she nods.

She buries her face in her hands, concentrating on expelling the rest of the water as minor cramps crawl through her belly and the pressure lessens considerably. After a while she looks up and watches him rinse the bottle and soaking the hose and nozzle in a separate tub.

He smiles at her. “You need anything?”

She shakes her head. “I’m exhausted.”

“I can imagine. Take your time. It will help if you rub your stomach a little. Just to keep things moving.”

She can hear him putting the stand away and tidying up. She flushes the toilet and gets up, her legs a little shaky.

“You done?”

“For now.”

She follows him back into the room and he ushers her into the bed, then spoons up behind her, kissing her neck and shoulders while his hands cup her breasts.

“You were phenomenal,” he breathes. “I almost came just by watching you.”

She places her hands on his. “I never thought of this – I had planned a simple enema, and you made me go into orbit again.” She snickers. “You should be the doctor more often. I quite enjoyed being your patient.”

“Anytime you want,” he replies.

She rolls over to face him, then strokes his cheek. “That was a very brave thing for you to do, Everett. I really appreciate it. Don’t ever be afraid to try something new – chances are I’ll love it anyway.”

“It’s easy, with you. When you come it’s a total head rush for me. You don’t hold back, you just let it carry you. It’s amazing to watch. To know I did this for you.”

She kisses him again, then closes her eyes, tucking her head under his chin, breathing in his scent, feeling his warmth, his arms around her.

oOo

She wakes to the smell of warm apple pie and coffee, and a tickling in her face.

“What…” she murmurs groggily and sits up.

Everett is sitting on the edge of the bed, poking her with the yellow teddy bear and holding out a plate to her.

“Ice cream’s melting,” he says and hands her a fork.

“Oh!” She sits up and devours the pie, then takes the coffee mug from him and sips carefully.

“I feel like a princess,” she says, handing him the plate back.

“Good. I’m getting closer, then,” he smiles and puts the bear back on the night stand.

She sets down the mug, then stretches luxuriously. He gets up.

“Come downstairs when you’re ready. We have visitors.”

“Who is it?”

“Surprise.”

She hurriedly gets up and rushes to the bathroom. After a quick shower and shave she gets dressed, checking herself in the mirror, hoping nobody can tell how thoroughly oversexed she feels.

“I like that look on you,” she compliments her image in the mirror.

Then she heads downstairs.

“Matt! Chloe! Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry – when did you get here?”

They both hug her.

“We got here about, what, an hour ago? Something like that. Dad says you had the graveyard shift, so I guess it’s good morning for you!”

She hopes they can’t tell she’s blushing a little.

“How long can you stay?”

“Oh, we’re breezing through, as usual,” Chloe says. “Another half hour, maybe. Or whenever the spooks in the black SUV drag us out of here.”

“I heard you’re going to med school next year,” Matt claps her on the shoulder. She laughs. “Well, that’s the plan. I’m far from there, but I will sure try my best.”

“You guys look great,” Chloe marvels. “No more hospital beds or casts or IVs – that must be so nice. Soccer back in your life with a vengeance?”

Everett laughs. “Sure is. And by the way, thank you both for making arrangements with the Rileys. That was a complete surprise to us.”

Chloe pumps her fist, then slaps Matt. “I told you it would come in handy. You owe me a new pair of shoes.”

Matt has the good grace to look utterly contrite. “You were right. There. Happy now?”

“Shoes?”

Matt sighs. “Yes, your highness. We’ll find something suitably outrageous online for you.”

Chloe grins.

They chat animatedly, carefully avoiding topics about their classified work. “Oh, and Ronald sends his regards,” Matt says. “He’s gone home to see his mom, but he wanted to congratulate you on being cast-free.”

“Thank you,” Everett nods. “I hope he’s doing all right?”

“Oh yes, being his old abrasive lovable self, as always. He also sends this for Lisa.” He imitates a grossly exaggerated wink.

Tamara laughs. “Believe it or not – Lisa’s off the market. She and Dale are together now.”

“You’re shittin’ me,” Chloe gapes. “Are you for real? Shy little pharmacist Dale Volker bagged wanton astrophysicist Dr. Lisa Park?”

“That’s not all. We also have Vanessa James and the erratic-on-a-platinum-band she got from Mike Varro…”

“Seriously? Holy smokes – we leave town and everyone turns into a magnet! What happened?”

Everett points upstairs. “What happened is that someone mixed some wicked pheromones into paint and tile grout and renovated our bathroom with it.”

“It’s true,” Tamara says. “It’s the magic fairy dust bathroom. Apparently Sheriff Telford and JP Dr. Rush are now also good friends, after painting the bedroom together. Mostly they have heated arguments about who-knows-what, but they hang out at Brody’s all the time now. It’s hilarious, really, those two. My guess is if one of them ever leaves the other will go on a murdering rampage, for lack of a safe outlet for their feelings of hostility towards mankind.”

“It’s done a world of good to Rush, to have someone to fight with over stupid little stuff. He’s actually quite likeable now. And Telford, well, you know, is Telford.”

They exchange more gossip and happenings in town until a uniformed officer alerts them that it’s time to head back.

They say their good-byes. “I wish I knew when we can stop by again, but it’s just not something we can plan. We’re off again tomorrow, and the rest of today is all briefings and stuff,” Chloe explains.

“And you have shoes to buy.”

“Right!”

“Thanks for reminding her, TJ.”

They wave as they are ushered out the door and into the waiting car. Everett takes Tamara’s hand and they go back into the house.

“They’re so sweet together,” she sighs. Everett nods. He’s silent for a while, distracted, and she knows it’s got something to do with work, so she doesn’t pry and gives him his space. And for the first time she gets an inkling of understanding of what Emily must have gone through, the secrecy she had to live with, the things about his life he couldn’t share.

She’d asked Dr. Brightman about what she would have to do to get a top-level clearance, and the answer was pretty straightforward: Air Force personnel and civilian consultants only.

“I can do it,” she realizes. “And I will. It will take a lot of time, but that’s what I will do. For both of us.”

oOo

He apologizes to her later.

“I should be better at this,” he says. “I should be able to swallow it and move on.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it, Everett. If I had been a POW and my son was in the Service and all he can talk about is what broke my back years ago, I’d be the same way. You’re a human being. And you’re not a rock or an island. I understand that. And I know I have to work this out with the Air Force on my own, and there’s no reason to blame you. And I don’t, okay?”

She hugs him. “If you need time to yourself, I’m fine with that. I had a mega-orgasm today already, you don’t have to feel obligated to launch me all the way to Pluto again.”

He pulls back and smiles at her.

“But you wouldn’t refuse, if someone offered you a seat on that rocket?”

She does a double take. “Everett! And here I thought I was the only one with a dirty mind.”

He laughs. “Ain’t nothing dirty about it. I think I’m addicted, that’s all.”

“Well, if you’re sure…”

“I am.”

“Then let’s go, big bad rocket man. Tie up your astronaut woman and shoot her into the next galaxy.”

“Roger that,” he rumbles and playfully bites her neck. She squeals and untangles herself from him, running towards the stairs. He locks the doors and turns off the lights and then comes after her – one foot per step, and she nearly breaks into tears, while he doesn’t even seem to notice.

“What,” he asks, frowning at her mildly shocked expression.

“You just walked up the stairs,” she points at his feet. He stops. “Oh,” the penny drops. “I didn’t even realize.”

He smiles and she takes his hand. “You’ve earned this,” she says. “Come on.”

She gestures at her collection of restraints.

He nods. “So this is the part where I tie you up and fuck you until you scream?”

“Or however far we get,” she snickers. “It doesn’t matter. I want you to be completely in charge. I want you to know that I want this, and that I love it, and that I’ll love it even more because it’s you.”

“All right. Let me go get a condom.”

She touches his hand. “If you feel safer wearing one, by all means. You’ve been tested in the hospital several times, and I get mine done regularly because of the job. And I’m pretty sure we’ve been exclusive since Matt’s wedding.”

He smiles. “You’re right. It’s just… I didn’t want to presume.”

“And I appreciate that so much. You really are the best. So, go ahead and use one, if you want. And as much as I’d love to help you with it, I’m afraid when the time comes I’ll be… a little tied up. Actually, a lot, I hope.”

“I’ll do my best.” He rummages in his night stand, pulls out a string of condoms, checks the date. “Still good for another year.”

She holds up a packet between two fingers. “Strawberry flavored.”

“Oh.” He tilts his head. “Oh! Sure thing.” She hands it to him, then pulls a book from her box.

“This is the one I’d like to try out,” she opens a bookmarked page. “Pillow under my butt. Arms stretched out above the head. Knees pulled up and out, feet pulled the other way. I wouldn’t be able to move at all and you have full access.”

He looks at the schematic. “I think I got it. What should I use?”

She pulls out two wrist wraps, two thigh wraps and two ankle wraps, explaining how to fasten them. “Everything is padded, so my limbs won’t fall asleep. And it’s Velcro, so it comes off with one pull. There’s tons of webbing here, instead of ropes. Easy to adjust with the buckles, and dog clips at both ends. No knots required and easy to undo.”

“What do I clip those to?”

She laughs. “My special little installation, while they repainted. Don’t worry, I told the carpenters it was for a canopy that I wanted to add.” She shows him carefully concealed D-rings on the bed posts.

“Wow. I would have never noticed them.”

“Excellent. Okay. Towel? Check. Lube? Check. Toy box? Check. Horny woman? Check. Safe word?”

“Blood.”

“And anyone can stop it…”

“… at any time, for any reason, without explanation.”

“Super.” She pulls him close and kisses him hungrily.

“I want you inside of me, all the way. Don’t hold back on my behalf. But please know that if you need to stop, I won’t be disappointed or mad or anything. We’ll just do something else instead. Now, take my clothes off.”

He pulls her sweater over her head, then her t-shirt and sports bra. He places a quick kiss on each nipple, then moves to unbutton her jeans and slides them down her legs. Hooking his fingers under the sides of her panties he pulls them down as well, kissing her stomach. She watches as he slides his hands down her legs, then she sits on the bed at his gesture. He pulls off her shoes and then her jeans, panties and socks.

“Are you warm enough,” he asks with concern.

“Yes. This is just perfect.”

She hands him the first set of cuffs, and he carefully wraps them around her ankles, smoothing out the Velcro strip to close them, making sure the D-rings are on the outside of her feet. She holds out her arms, and he fastens the wrist cuffs, taking his time to fit them just right.

“Are these okay?”

“Yes. Very comfy.”

She scoots back and he places her left leg on his shoulder, wrapping the thigh cuff just above the knee, then repeats the same with her right leg. “How about these?”

“A little tighter, perhaps. If they’re too loose they can chafe a bit.”

He adjusts the wraps and she nods. “That feels good now.”

She gets up, turns around and climbs up onto the bed, smoothing the towel out, then lies down on her back.

“What first?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Okay, I’ll tie your hands first.” He clips the first strap to her left wrist, then clips the other end to the bedpost. He pulls the remaining webbing through the buckle until her arm is stretched out. He repeats the same with her right wrist.

“Mmhmm, I like looking at you like this,” he smiles, bends down and kisses her, then gently kneads her breasts and suckles them for a short while, making them peak.

“Okay, push yourself up a little so I can put the pillow under you.” He tucks it in. “Like this?”

She cranes her neck. “Maybe a little higher, towards my back.”

He adjusts it carefully. “How’s this?”

“Yeah. Good.”

He clips the next strap to her left knee, then pulls it up towards her wrist, repeating the same with her right knee.

“Still good?”

She nods. “I could come from just watching you tying me up,” she breathes. “Keep going.”

He clips the last set of straps to her ankles and pulls her feet towards the other end of the bed. She moans as he tightens the buckles, wiggling her toes.

“I can’t move at all,” she observes. “This is great. Oh fuck, I can’t wait.”

“I’m wearing too many clothes,” he declares. “So I’m afraid you’ll _have_ to wait a little while.”

“Could I have a small pillow for my head? I want to be able to see what you’re doing.”

“Sure. Hang on.” He bends over her to kiss her, then lifts her head and slips a pillow underneath.

“Like so?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

And she watches him as he takes off his shoes, unbuckles his belt and slides down his pants. He flashes her a quick smile as he briefly sits to take off his shoes and socks, then removes his shirt and t-shirt. When he pulls his boxers down she notes with appreciation that he’s already half hard.

He climbs up on the bed between her bound legs, stroking them with a feather-light touch, then kissing along her right leg all the way down to her groin. Parting her folds with his fingertips he kisses her clit, then licks around it slowly. She sighs, closing her eyes, and then she feels his tongue teasing her, darting this way and that, circling her clit. Spreading her open with his thumbs he touches her with his tongue, then wiggles it into her. She moans and struggles within her bindings.

“Easy,” he soothes her, then suckles gently on her clit. She bites her lips, holds her breath, feeling her hips trying to move into his sweet torture. She hears the squirt of the lube bottle and looks down to watch him as he pushes his pinkie into her ass.

“Yes,” she hisses. “Oh fuck, yes.”

He pumps it slowly in and out, rotating his wrist, sitting back on his heels. She sighs and he looks up and smiles at her. “You good?”

“Love it.”

“Ready for more?”

“Anytime.”

He carefully withdraws his finger and wipes it off, then reaches for a medium sized vibrator with an indentation towards the end. He holds it up to show her, and she nods, closing her eyes again. She feels the pressure against her hole, then feels the buzzing vibration and twitches involuntarily. He pushes it against her and she bears down. She groans as the long shaft slides home, hears him drizzling more lube on it as it goes in, seating itself securely as her muscles grip the narrower area, holding it in place. He kisses her clit again, flicks his tongue against it as she utters a strangled moan.

She tries to breathe away her arousal; she’s so close but she doesn’t want to come yet, not quite. She feels his hand on her stomach, rubbing her gently, and when she looks up she sees he’s stroking his almost erect cock with his other hand.

“So nice,” she whispers. “Come on, come on…”

He reaches for the condom, opens the packet and rolls it over his cock while pinching the tip. He licks his finger. “That does taste like strawberries,” he says, his voice surprised.

“Told you so,” she pants.

“Wanna try?”

“Yes, please.”

He gets up and climbs over her, straddling her chest with his knees at her armpits. Guiding his cock towards her face he leans forward, then braces himself as he pushes himself into her open mouth. She tightens her lips around him, concentrating on breathing while he fucks her mouth. He moves his hand behind her head, tilts her up so she can take in more of him, pulling out every few thrusts so she can breathe. She swallows him eagerly, relishing the sweet taste, tugging on her wrist straps. He releases her head, then clasps her hands, weaving his fingers with hers, thrusting gently.

She arches her back, tries to get more friction from the vibrator, but her ass is too far above the bed.

She coughs and gags a little. “Fuck me, Everett,” she grunts. “Please, for heaven’s sake, fuck me, or I’ll come like this…”

He scoots back and bends down to kiss her, pushing his tongue deep into her mouth and she sucks on him, moaning.

Climbing back down he carefully maneuvers around the straps, then guides his cock towards her, teasing her folds with it as she whimpers with anticipation.

“I love you so much, Tamara,” he says and pushes forward, slowly, steadily.

She can’t take her eyes off him, gulping for air, feeling his cock slide into her, spreading her wide open, and she holds her breath as he grasps her thighs, pulling himself all the way into her. She cries out – it’s surprisingly painful, and she knows he’s big, so she takes deep breaths to relax her muscles.

“I’ve got his cock inside me,” she thinks. “He’s inside me. Inside me all the way.” She feels the pinching stretch, feels her muscles accommodate his girth, feels herself opening up to his complete penetration of her body.

He rubs her flanks. “You okay?”

She can’t help the sob escaping her. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

He pulls back, then pushes back in, groaning. “This is wild, with the vibrator… I can feel it through your body…”

“You can take it out, if you want.”

“No, no, I like it, it’s just different.”

He pulls back almost all the way, then leans forward to brace himself on either side of her chest, sliding back into her. “Yes,” he groans.

She looks at him – open panting mouth, hooded eyes, head tilted back, knees spread wide between her parted legs, and his hips are moving smoothly, fluidly, almost gently. She feels his rhythm and matches it with her own hips, as much as her bindings will allow, arching her back up or down, and he looks at her and smiles.

“That’s it,” he says. “Just like that. Oh, you feel fantastic… I love the way you move, even tied up like this… There you go…”

She watches in fascination as their bodies rock in perfect unison, as he rubs her clit with every roll of his hips, a complex gliding motion, and she wants it to never stop. It looks like a dance to her, a beautiful dance, two bodies moving in harmony. She’s surprised at how long he can keep it up, how long she can teeter on the edge, almost there – it feels like hours.

“Everett,” she moans, just to say his name, loving his name, loving his cock inside her, the glide of his skin over hears.

He dips his head to take a nipple into his mouth, then suddenly gives a hard thrust, grunting deep in his throat. She cries out in surprise, and he slams into her again, and she feels it coming, the point of no return, and his third thrust, almost brutal in strength, pushes her over the edge, and she screams, the blood rushing in her ears as she convulses beneath him, and he fucks her hard now with every contraction.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he gasps, “come on, come on, come on…”

He grasps her hips firmly as he comes, slamming into her with loud grunts, and her head is swimming with the exhaustion of her own orgasm and the fresh pain his hard thrusts inflict upon her. And she wants more, more of him, more of the sudden impacts, the bruising grip on her. She cries out, feeling the restraints hold her in place, struggling to get away, or to get closer to him, she doesn’t know what.

She feels him tug on the vibrator in her ass and bears down, whimpering as it slips out of her. He shifts his weight, pulls out and tilts her hips up, then pushes his cock into her ass.

She screams at the sudden exquisite pain, feels another contraction shake her as he fucks her ass deep and hard, holding on to her hips, groaning with each thrust.

She’s beyond comprehending what’s happening to her, tears streaming down her face, desperate sobs racking her body.

“Everett,” she pants. “Oh damn…”

She feels him withdraw, slip out of her, and the sweet pain subsides. He moves up, lying down on top of her, his cock pressed against her stomach. He kisses her face, wipes off her tears, whispering sweet words in her ear, calming her down, stroking her trembling arms.

“Don’t move,” she sobs. “Please don’t move.”

His weight is comforting to her; she has some trouble breathing, but for the moment she just wants to be anchored by his body, wants him to hold her down completely, his face buried against her neck, his panting breaths cooling her heated skin.

She concentrates on breathing, finally gets it under control.

“I love you,” she gasps. “I love you, love you so much…”

He braces himself on his elbows and kisses her. “I know,” he whispers. “I’ve always known.”

He kisses her again, then pushes himself up and off her. She watches as he takes the condom off and ties it, wrapping it in a tissue and putting it in the wastebasket. Then he quickly unclips her restraints, and she cries out as he gently moves her cramping limbs and rests her on the bed. She watches him take the cuffs off and setting them aside, turning off the vibrator and placing it in the sink. He returns with a warm, wet washcloth, props up her left leg and cleans her carefully, wiping front to back, then using a hand towel to pat her dry.

“Come here,” he says and gathers her in his arms.

She kisses his chest. “That was incredible, Everett. I loved it so much.”

He kisses her. “I enjoyed it, too. I haven’t really had sex with anyone, not penetrative sex, since before I was taken. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to enjoy it again. But I did.”

He hugs her close.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he says, rocking her gently. She smiles.

“Come on, let’s get ready for bed. You’re exhausted. You must be sore, too.”

“I am,” she admits. “But it’s a good kind of sore.”

He helps her up, and they shower together, washing each other, drying each other off afterwards. They brush their teeth, and after he cleans up the room a little they slip under the covers.

“Was it what you had in mind?”

“That, and so much more,” she sighs. “I love being tied up. I love it when I’m at your mercy. I love it when you go wild with me. You were incredible. And you surprised me at every turn.”

“I wasn’t sure I could go through with it,” he confesses. “But you were so hot, and you just pulled me in, and it was all so easy, the memories just – went away, I’m here now, and this is you, and I don’t have to hate myself for it.”

“Because I want it.”

“Yes. It’s a choice. That’s important. I know the difference now.”

She’s moved by his discovery, she can only imagine what he must have gone through, and how he’s clawing his way back to joy again, after all these years.

“What an incredible journey,” she muses.

“And there’s so much more to see.”

“And that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Every journey is a series of discoveries about who you have been, who you are now and who you want to be in the future.”

He kisses her gently.

She snuggles up close to him and he finally rolls away from her so she can spoon up behind him, her hand on his chest, his hand on hers.

oOo

He keeps his word, as she begins studying for the MCAT. While she gets her materials organized he cleans out the small bedroom by the living room that used to serve as his office, and sets up a study for her. She helps him move the furniture, then they unpack her books, computer and study guides. The yellow teddy bear gets a place of honor on her desk next to the lamp.

“Little gift from Dale and Lisa,” he says, and unrolls a poster with the Periodic Table. “Awww,” she says. “That was sweet of them.”

He passes her a box. “From Drs. Siegler, Tyman and Finch at the hospital.” She opens it and pulls out a small replica of a human skeleton on a stand.

“Oh, how cute,” she exclaims. “I’ll have to thank them. What a lovely surprise!”

“Hang on a sec,” he says, goes to the kitchen and comes back with a covered plate. He picks up the lid and – it’s a pinkish-gray brain. She blinks. “What the –“

“It’s strawberry pudding with a little food color mixed in,” Everett explains with a chuckle. “Philip, Mattie and Kiva made it for you at Annie Balic’s house yesterday. They said they hoped it was gross enough.”

Tamara laughs. “That it is! I’ve seen those molds – I’ve just never seen one that looked quite this real. They even got the color right.”

“Well, we’ll keep it in the fridge for now, but whenever you feel like having a snack you might as well have some brain.”

Then he passes her a stack of notebooks, pens, pencils, a calculator, highlighters, sticky notes, paperclips – an entire inventory of office supplies. “They keep showing up on the front stoop,” he says, pointing at different items. “Brody, Vanessa, Camile, Darren, Leanne, Sharon… and this little gem.” He passes her a pencil holder in the shape of a skull. “From a guy named Spencer, apparently.”

“Oh, that must be Joshua Spencer! Big burly guy – had a hunting accident last week – bullet ricochet grazed his temple. Bled like a pig. Brought us a whole box of protein bars to the dispatch the next day, he was so grateful. Weird sense of humor for sure.”

“I’ll say. – Two medical dictionaries from Telford and Rush. They couldn’t decide which one to get so they got you one each. Don’t know which one is which. Apparently they’re still fighting about it, is what Brody said.”

“What’s this?” She picks up an envelope and opens it. A card slides out. “Five years of free computer fixes. Virus removal, upgrades, repairs. Hunter Riley’s Bits & Parts.” She laughs. “What a great business name!”

“And this is from me.”

He hands her a small elongated box. She opens it carefully, then gasps in shock, grasping his hand, then sighing with relief. She pulls out a perfect replica of his crippled pinkie finger. “Fuck,” she swears. “This looks so real! I just thought you’d had it amputated or something.”

He laughs. “I had the mold done a few weeks ago. I talked to the prosthetics specialist at the hospital and he made all the arrangements. Said it was one of the weirder requests he’s ever gotten, but he was game. It’s silicone, so you can disinfect it if the need arises.”

She’s speechless and hugs him, tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Everett.”

“Doesn’t it look amazing, though?” He holds up his pinkie next to it and she shakes her head. “You have a delightfully wicked sense of humor, that’s for sure.”

“What you do with it is up to you, of course.”

“Mmhmm. I can go to class with your pinkie inside of me…”

“Your fondest wet dream come true.”

She laughs. “Yes, indeed. Doesn’t beat the real thing, never will, but I’m sure it’ll get plenty of use when I’m in school.”

“There’s a box for it, too, that you can keep it in,” he points at the wrapping.

She sticks the fake pinkie in her mouth, closes her eyes and slowly pulls it out again, giving it a parting lick.

“Okay, I _so_ didn’t need to see that,” he groans. “One track mind. Stop. Stop! Back to your desk. Study something. Put the pinkie away. I’ll check on you for lunch.”

She giggles, but as soon as he’s closed the door behind himself she pulls it back out and kisses it. “Hey Li’l Ev,” she whispers. “Love you already.”

oOo

They draw up a schedule, trying to maximize their time together while accommodating her study time and half-shifts and his numerous obligations within the community. He’s perfectly happy running the house, cooking and cleaning and doing the laundry. She helps whenever possible. Lisa and Dale come over regularly to help her with her chemistry and physics studies – and they assure her that she’s doing just fine by herself.

“But it’s being able to discuss those topics that helps,” she insists. “A book can’t give you feedback. You guys do.”

“We’re happy to help you,” Lisa smiles. “Aren’t we, Dale?”

He grins. “Of course. You’re such a quick study, too.”

“Agreed – I wish my students had half the dedication you have,” Lisa nods.

“Well, it’s different, when you’ve been out of school for a while, and you come back because you want to, not because that’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“You think you will miss being a paramedic?”

“Oh, I know I will. It’s such a rush, such immediate results. I really do have an interest in trauma surgery, ER work. And I want to specialize in brain injuries. It’s a fascinating topic. I mean, I’ve seen a best case scenario with Everett, and most people never recover this well, but I want to do what I can to help them.”

“I think most of Ev’s recovery can be credited to you,” Dale says. “I hope you journaled, or kept some kind of record, because it would be a good case study.”

“I did,” she nods. “Dr. Brightman helped me document it, and Everett says I can have any of the scans I need. We’re using it for my med school application.”

“Great idea. I’m sure you’ll do fine. The folks in Denver will be falling over each other on who gets to hold the door open for you.”

Tamara laughs at the image.

Dale points at her. “You know, the Air Force has scholarships for doctors wanting to specialize in an in-demand area. TBI is on their list. They’ll pay for the advanced training in return for an equal number of years of indentured servitude.”

Lisa punches his shoulder. “Oh, shush. It’s a service exchange. We’ve both done it, too. Now I’m a civilian consultant. It’s good money, and you’d get to see some interesting cases. Probably combat- or training related, but they knock a lot of holes in heads in the Service.”

Tamara nods. “I’ve looked into it, and it’s what Dr. Brightman recommends as well. Once I’m out of school and into my residency, that’s what I’m planning to do.”

“Well, let us know if you need any help with that. There’s lots of other folks in this town that the Air Force contracts out to, because they all have appropriate clearances and such.”

“That’s what I’m after.”

“Then the sooner you express your intent to their scholarship board, the better. It’s never too early to grease those wheels.”

oOo

She discusses her plans with Everett later on, and he agrees with her.

“It’s a great opportunity. You should totally go for it. I know a lot of people will support it – just think of what General O’Neill has already done for us.”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it, after all that’s happened to you.”

“It wasn’t their fault. I never blamed anyone. It was my decision. And it’s not like I got kicked out – it was a mutual agreement, the retirement. And I can be reinstated at any time if I so desire. One of the perks of my contract. Although I’ll never be in the field again, but a desk job can be nice – come home every evening – training, assessment, instruction, there’s a ton of things.”

“It would get me clearance.”

He looks at her. “Yes, it would.”

“Is that a pro or a con?”

He smiles. “It would explain a lot of things to you, things that don’t quite make sense otherwise.”

“It would take some of the pressure off you.”

“That it would. And Matt and Chloe, too.”

She snuggles up to him. “I want to share my life with you. And I’m not afraid of what you have to share, either. We’ve made it this far. I’m in it for the long haul. It will be a few years yet, but it’s not something that keeps me awake at night. I want you to be comfortable, knowing that I know.”

He puts his head on her shoulder, and she weaves her fingers through his hair.

“I love how your hair has grown back,” she murmurs. “I love the curls coming in again.”

He kisses her neck. “I’ve had it super short most of my adult life. But if you like it longer I can let it grow out as much as you want.”

She perks up.

“Within reason,” he adds, and she laughs.

“So I should cancel the course in male hair braiding?”

He sits up.

“Just kidding. Hey, wanna braid my hair, though?”

“Now?”

“Sure. Let me get a brush and a tie.”

She fetches both and then sits down, turning her back towards him. “Do you know how?”

He begins to brush her hair. “I do, actually. Basic training.”

She frowns. “Basic training includes hair braiding?”

“No, not as such. It’s for ropes. You can make a very strong rope by braiding several weak ones.”

“Ah. Makes sense.”

“I can crochet, too.”

“For real?”

“A way to organize cable. It’s exactly like crocheting, though. Just with really fat yarn.”

“Well, what do you know,” she mutters, loving the way his fingers run through her hair as he parts it three ways, then quickly and deftly braids it. She hands him the tie.

“All done.”

She checks it with her fingertips. “Nice. Can you do a French Braid?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s kinda like that, but it starts up here, and you keep adding strands from the side.”

“Ah – I think I know what you mean. Nope, never tried it, but I’d love to learn.”

“I’ll teach you, then, some time.”

She takes the brush, notices his pensive look.

“What’s wrong, Everett?”

He bites his lip, then finally looks at her.

“I want you to do something for me, if you can.”

“Anything. What is it?”

“I’m not sure how to say it… I want you to re-enact what they did to me, when I was a prisoner.”

“Everett?”

“Look, I know that I can’t keep being scared of those memories. You’ve shown me that if I confront them head-on, give them a different context, that if I want it, it’s different. It changes. It becomes something good.”

She takes his hands, waits for him to finish.

“You’ve gotten me past so much I would have never dreamed of doing, because I just couldn’t, and I was torn between wanting to deal with it and not knowing how. It’s not desensitization, either. It’s, like you said, owning it. Claiming it. Making it mine, instead of theirs. Admitting to myself that I can be comfortable with myself, that I didn’t betray myself. That I’m still me.”

She can’t help the tears running down her face.

“Of course,” she whispers. “You did everything I asked for me. And it does work both ways. That’s the most important thing. And I’m ready to take that trip with you whenever you want. In fact, I’m proud and honored. Let’s take back what is rightfully yours. Let’s take the ugly memory and make it a beautiful one. One that is ours. One that we choose.”

He takes a deep breath. “Now?”

She nods. “If that’s what you want, then yes.”

“It’s what I want.”

“Then I’m with you. You’ll have to talk me through it, but as long as we can stick to our two rules I will do whatever it takes.”

“Agreed.”

He takes her hand and kisses her fingers, then gets up and follows her upstairs.

She kisses him gently. “Safe word?”

“Blood.”

“And anyone can stop it-“

“… at any time, for any reason, without explanation.”

“Excellent. Tell me what we need.”

“Your toy box. The restraints. The enema supplies. A condom. A breathing mask. Syringe. Two nipple clamps.”

“Let’s see… the clamps are in this box over there. Would you like to pick some? Breathing mask… let’s use the emergency oxygen generator they left you – it’s just a small one but at low flow it will be fine.”

“They left the generator?”

“Yes, it’s in the downstairs closet. I’m trained to administer oxygen, so we’re fine.”

“Okay. These.” He holds up a pair of crocodile clips. “They look just like it. Except for the wires.”

“Wires?”

“Small electrical current, for stimulation.”

“Yeah, let’s not do that. Electrical play is a bit advanced, and it needs to be properly rigged.”

“I don’t need it anyway.”

“What’s the syringe for?”

“Lube.”

“All right. I’ll get the generator and some airline tubing and the mask. Meanwhile, go and get yourself ready. Have you had a bowel movement today?”

“Yes. I won’t need much of an enema anyway. It works pretty quickly, after so many times.”

She nods and leaves to get the generator and supplies. When she comes back he’s taken a quick shower and is spreading several large towels over the covers.

“Would you like me to wear anything special?”

He bites his lip. “Scrubs?”

She smiles. “I can do that. Pattern or solid? Color?”

“Solid. Generic green, if you have it.”

“Institutional green okay?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

She makes sure he watches her as she takes off her clothes, stripping naked in front of him, then pulls on a set of scrubs. “Anything else?”

“No. That’s good. Oh yes, gloves.”

She pulls on a pair of blue nitrile gloves.

“I’m ready. What’s first?”

“The wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs.”

“All right. Sit down, so I can fit them properly.”

She takes her time wrapping the cushioned cuffs around his wrists and ankles, making sure they’re tight but not too much, kissing his limbs tenderly after each is in place.

“Talk me through it.”

He gets up on the bed and lies down on his left side, bringing his right ankle up to touch his wrists.

“They tie me up like this.”

“Okay. I’m going to use this multi-clip. See? It has a whole bunch of dog clips on a ring. One, two… three. Does that feel about right?”

“Yes.”

She strokes his arms and legs, carefully avoiding the area of his skin graft, which she knows can be overly sensitive at the edges.

“I love your ass,” she says, sliding a finger along the small of his back and down between his buttocks.

“I lie there and wait while they get the enema ready.”

She gets up, picks up the supplies and opens a new bag with a hose and nozzle. “Balloon nozzle or not?”

“No. Just a normal one. I have to hold it.”

She kisses his cheek. “You okay?”

He smiles at her. “I’m fine, really. I can’t wait for you to do this. It’s actually kinda… exciting. With you.”

She goes into the bathroom, runs the hot water, tests the temperature and fills the bag. She returns with it and touches it to his cheek. “Is that about right?”

He nods, and she quickly sets up the stand and hangs up the bottle, connecting the hose and nozzle. She makes sure he can see her putting lube on her finger, then massages his puckered hole for a moment before pushing in gently.

“Bear down,” she says, and her finger slips into him easily. She moves it in and out a few more times, using more lube, then applying a generous amount to the nozzle.

“Again,” she says, and as he pushes back she works the nozzle into him.

“How’s that feel to you?”

“It’s good. I like how easily it went in.”

“Ready for the water?”

“Yeah. Go for it.”

She moves the clamp, starts with minimal flow, then increases it gradually. He moans quietly.

“Too much?”

“No. no, it’s good. Warm. Hmmm…”

“Tell me when you’ve had enough.”

He signals her to stop after about three quarters of the water are in.

“They take the nozzle out and rub my stomach.”

“Are you on your back for that?”

“No, I’m tied to the stretcher like this.”

“Okay.” She moves behind him, gently pulls the nozzle from his body and hangs it on the stand, then reaches over him and carefully rubs his belly. She can hear the water moving around in his body, and she discovers it’s a huge turn-on for her, feeling how warm his abdomen is, hearing his soft grunts as she massages him.

“I have to go now, I can’t hold it in any longer,” he gasps after a few minutes, and she quickly unclips the cuffs and helps him up and to the bathroom.

She gives him privacy while he expels the water, in the meantime removing her gloves and putting on a fresh pair, then pulling lube into the syringe, making sure there are no air bubbles. She waits for him to come back.

 “Everything okay?”

“It’s a little nerve-wracking, I admit. But no, I’m good. It’s a whole different thing when you do it.”

“Good. What’s next?”

“I kneel down on this… rack, I guess, and they shackle my wrists and ankles to it.”

“I have these straps that go all the way across the bed. I can snap you to the D-rings on them.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She hands him the ends of the straps and he hooks them over one side of the bed frame while she cinches them tight on the other side. He touches the rings. “These look like fun. I’d love to see you tied to those some time.”

“Oh, absolutely.  Lots of fun stuff we can do with them. All right, let’s clip you into place.”

He climbs up on the bed on his hands and knees, settling in so that she can clip the cuffs to a D-ring.

“Try these.”

He moves.

“I think maybe one set further apart.”

She adjusts his arms and legs “Better?”

“Yeah, that’s good.”

She scoots around to his front and takes his face in her hands, kissing him deeply. He closes his eyes, responding to her, humming with delight at her touch.

“You look marvelous,” she smiles against his mouth. “So solid. Open to me. Tell me what to do next.”

“They put the breathing mask on. It’s special chemicals, to make me come harder.”

She turns on the generator and waits for the green light telling her the unit has filled the reservoir and is ready to begin dispensing. She attaches the tube to the mask and slips the two elastic bands over his head. He takes a few deep breaths.

“Clamps,” he says then, his voice slightly muffled by the mask.

She reaches down underneath him, rubs his nipples, teases them until they peak, then attaches the clips. He winces and grunts but nods his head.

“Too tight?”

“No, they’re fine. Smaller than the real ones, but they’re good. Condom is next.”

She opens a foil packet, kneels between his thighs and reaches around his hips, over his back. He’s almost fully erect, so she has no problem rolling the sheath on.

“Peach flavor. That okay?”

“Yeah. It’s really a milking machine type of thing, but the condom will do. Put some lube on the outside.”

She coats it evenly, then wipes her hands on the towel.

“Lube a finger and open me up,” comes his voice.

She kneels behind him, parts his buttocks with her left hand, then gently pushes her right index finger into his ass. She rotates her wrist, pulls out, adds more lube, then uses two fingers.

He moans softly. “Use the syringe now.”

She removes her fingers, then parts his buttocks again and inserts the tip of the syringe, pushing the plunger in, filling him up. His hips move, trying to get away from the cold substance, but she keeps at it, emptying it all the way.

“Vibrator,” he grunts, and she rummages for the one he had pointed out some time ago, coats it thickly with lube and places at against his hole.

She kisses his buttock, then pushes in.

His deep long groan makes her hands shake a little.

“Keep going,” he gasps, “I’m okay,” and she pulls herself together and keeps pushing until the shaft is all the way inside, the bottom flare against his ass.

“It’s in,“ she says, rubbing the small of his back. “What happens next?”

“Turn it on.”

She sets the vibrator to medium as he begins to move his hips.

“You mentioned electro-stimulation. It’s in the probe and in the clamps?”

He nods. “And the sleeve around my cock is pulling somehow, sucking me, like it’s moving.”

“Milking you, literally.”

“Yes.”

She changes her gloves, then takes a deep breath and reaches for his cock, wraps her fingers around the shaft and pulls gently, using her fingers in a wave-like fashion. Resting her cheek against his side she carefully moves the vibrator with her other hand, thrusting gently, moving it in small circles, tapping it back in.

“Mask off,” he groans, as his hips begin to move faster and she quickly reaches to pull the mask off his face.

“Are you coming?”

He shakes his head. “Close. It takes a while… I fight it… I don’t know why… if I let it happen, it will be over quicker… but I fight it…”

She returns to her task, stroking his cock and moving the vibrator.

“Fight it, Everett,” she whispers. “Because you’ll come even harder. So you fight it, yes?”

“Yes,” he moans. “Turn it up, please.”

She adjust the speed to full and he yelps as his knees push up off the bed, then come back down as he spreads them wider, desperate for more friction.

“I want to join you,” she says. “Will that be okay?”

“Yes…”

She pulls off her pants and scoots underneath him, tilting her hips up towards his face, pulling herself up and taking his cock into her mouth, sucking him hard and fast.

He cries out in surprise, then bends his elbows and mouths her clit, sucking hard, and she claws her fingers into his thighs.

“Easy,” she gasps, then takes him deep again. He bucks up hard, nearly choking her, and then he comes in a series of strangled grunts, and she can feel his cock twitching against her tongue, can feel his semen squirting into the reservoir, and she keeps her lips firmly on him, moving with his thrusts, feeling his hot breath against her groin.

As she feels his thrusts lessening she releases him, stroking his sides.

“Wow,” she says. “That’s it, you’re done now. They’re getting you out next.”

He takes deep breaths. “Condom first,” he says quietly.

She carefully pulls it off his cock, then can’t resist taking him into her mouth again, suckling gently on the tip, knowing how sensitive he must be right now. “Love your cock,” she says, then suckles some more.

His thighs are trembling a little, and so she lets go of him and scoots out.

“Clamps.” She takes them off quickly, then gently rubs her flat palm over his nipples.

“Vibrator last?”

He nods. She turns it off, then gently, slowly pulls it out. “Push,” she says, and the shaft glides out into her hand. She rubs her fingertips over his hole, waits for his muscles to contract again, then gets up and puts the vibrator in the sink and peels off her gloves, throwing them in the trash.

She quickly unsnaps his restraints and unwraps the cuffs, easing him down onto his side and then rolling him over on his back. She bends down and kisses him deeply, stroking his face, his hair.

When she pulls back he smiles at her.

“We did it,” he whispers.

She nods, then curls up against his side.

“You were incredibly hot there,” she admits, “but to think that you were forced into this, that you didn’t want it, that just sickens my heart. How anyone could do this.”

“I was just one of many,” he says, sadly. “Most of them just got used up. I only had six months of it.”

“How often?”

“Three times a day. They tried more often, but I was already too old for that, I just couldn’t do it. Oh, I came all right, but I didn’t ejaculate. So they settled on three.”

“But you did it today, and it was good, yes?”

“Yes. I wasn’t scared, or uncomfortable. The memory hurt, but nothing else. It was kinky sex with someone who appreciates it. Someone I love, someone I care for. And that part I liked very much. It felt really good. I’d like to try out more things like it, let you have your way with me, whatever you want.”

“You’re so beautiful when you come,” she whispers. “It’s their loss that they never saw it, that they didn’t care.”

“Maybe I really did like it, and I felt so guilty about it.”

“It was still torture. I love having your pinkie inside me, but if it was stuck into me against my will, three times a day, I would go nuts, even if in real life, I could take it twice that often. That’s the difference. We choose this.”

He pulls her close. “That makes so much sense. I love Camile’s apple pie, but if I was force fed it all the time I would hate it, too, and then hate myself for hating it.”

“Exactly. Remember what I said when we first met, that they could make you do or say anything, but they couldn’t change you, who you really are?”

“This is who I really am.”

“Everett Young – meet Everett Young. The real deal. The guy who loves to get tied up and fucked until he screams.”

He chuckles at that. “Birds of a feather.”

“I knew it the moment I saw you the first time. Maybe that’s why I had this déjà vu. My body tuned in to you immediately. Maybe it’s pheromones, or karma or whatever. Destiny.”

“Destiny,” he repeats. “Sure feels that way sometimes, doesn’t it.”

“I feel sticky from all the lube. Let’s clean up.”

They put the cuffs and straps away, wash up and take a quick shower.

“Want me to suck you off before we go to bed?”

She smiles, then shakes her head.

“No, it’s okay. Today was all for you. But I do have lots of ideas for further down the road now…”

oOo

“I’ve been accepted,” she says weakly, sinking down on a chair, holding the letter out to him.

And then she crosses her arms on the kitchen table, rests her forehead on them and begins to cry, deep, wracking sobs.

She feels his warm hand on her back.

“Hey,” he says gently, kissing her shoulder. “Congratulations, Tamara.”

She throws her arms around him and he holds her as she weeps. “I knew you would do it. You’ve worked so hard. It all paid off.”

She nods, takes a deep breath and he kisses her, brushing her tears away. They stand like that for a long time, trading kisses, hugging and smiling, and while she’s ecstatic beyond belief she’s also saddened by the fact that she won’t see him as often in the next several years.

He must have read her thoughts. “We’re good at planning,” he says, holding her face in his hands. “We’ll make every minute count. You’ll quit your job, and school is all you have to do. And you can always bring the pinkie along.”

“Li’l Ev.”

He laughs. “Is that what you call it?”

“Oh yes. It will see lots of use. Whenever you’re not there.”

“I might go back to work, too.  And I’ll take more cooking classes while you’re studying.”

That makes her smile. “You’ve become an amazing cook, Everett.”

“There’s always more to learn,” he nods. “They’re offering a six nights a week course on the use of sweet potatoes and rutabagas in Haute Cuisine, at the Culinary Institute. I’m totally going to sign up.”

She gapes at him. “What?”

“Just kidding.”

She slaps him playfully. “You had me there for a moment. Six nights a week? On rutabagas?”

“And sweet potatoes.”

“Your sweet potato pie is excellent. You should teach _them_ a thing or two about sweet potatoes.”

“Let me see the letter.”

She hands it to him and he reads it, then coughs and hands it back to her. “Read the bottom half.”

She does. “Oh shit… I got a full scholarship, too!” She sits down again. “I’m not sure I can handle all this.”

“Well, you got half the spring and all summer to get used to the idea,” he shrugs and goes back to drying the dishes. “As long as you mail that acceptance letter back. Next page. Here’s a pen.”

“Thank you.”

She reads the letter again, then signs the acceptance form.

“There go the next eight years of my life,” she sighs. “I must be crazy.”

He nods. “Yeah, but it’s a good kind of crazy. Go on, get on the horn and email and let people know! Half of Cloverdale is devoid of fingernails by now. Go end their misery already.”

She hugs him fiercely and then goes to her study to send out the good news. Less than an hour later the flower deliveries start, people show up with food and gifts, and before they know it it’s a huge party at their house, with balloons and a hastily decorated cake featuring a stethoscope and a big bloody gash oozing red icing.

“The cut was Sheriff Telford’s idea,” Mike Varro says.

“Not true,” Dr. Rush pipes up. “It was mine.”

“What? Shut the front door, Rush. I came up with that,” Telford grouses.

“No way, laddie. You wanted the intestine icing, remember?”

And before they know it there’s another Telford/ Rush battle going on. Tamara blinks in confusion, but Telford winks at her. “No, you wanted the intestine. Only you would come up with something so demented. I was the one who suggested the bloody gash.”

“Oh for goodness’ sakes, will you two just get a room?” Varro grunts.

“What? No. No way. Not if he were the last human being on the planet.”

“Then go play nice. This is a party, not Brody’s Tavern.”

Tamara laughs.

“All right. How about I cut the cake and we all eat it?”

Cheers erupt all around.

It’s late evening before everyone has left. Lisa and Dale help with the cleanup, then wave their good-byes.

Tamara shakes her head.

“Crazy,” she murmurs.

Everett wraps his arms around her from behind and pulls her close, kissing her below the ear.

“After all that cake I’m in the mood for some real dessert,” he rumbles. “What about you?”

She leans her head back onto his shoulder. “Always. If your cock is on the menu. And the pinkie.”

“You want Li’l Ev?”

“No – I want the real deal.”

He chuckles. “Of course.” And he unbuckles her belt and slips his hand down the front of her pants, rubbing her clit through her panties.

She hums in appreciation while he kisses her jaw and shoulder. “Come on.”

She follows him into the living room where he lights a fire in the fireplace, then spreads out several blankets. “Nice,” she says and pulls his sweater off and unbuttons his shirt, then kisses him while she opens his pants and strokes his cock. He puts his hands on her ass and pulls her against him.

“You just can’t wait, can you,” she smiles.

“Nope. It’s urgent, Dr. Johansen. A severe case of a hard-on that requires your immediate and undivided attention.”

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that.”

She pushes his pants and boxers down and pounces on his cock, taking him deep right away, sucking hard. He exhales with a shuddering sigh.

“I think I need some more of that medicine,” he says, and she bends down and helps him out of his shoes and socks as well while he pulls his t-shirt off.

“You’re so beautiful,” she marvels. “You’re better than all the med schools and scholarships combined.”

He cups her face in his hands and kisses her tenderly, then slowly undresses her, kissing every newly revealed bit of skin, and his gentle touches take her breath away. She sees something different in him this time – a kind of reverence, as if he couldn’t believe she’s actually there. He sits facing the fire and she cuddles up in his arms as his hands gently knead her breasts, kissing her tenderly. She feels his hand wander lower and she moves her legs, allowing him better access as he slides his fingers over her dampening folds. She feels his crippled pinkie slide into her and she sighs and lays her head back on his shoulder.

“I want to ask you something,” he breathes in her ear.

“Mmhmm,” she nods.

He pulls out his finger, sucks on it briefly, then presses a small object into her palm. She looks at it – a pendant, a silver ring, embellished with two sparkling clear gems. He takes her hand.

“Tamara… will you marry me?”

She blinks in shock, feels her heart skipping a few beats, and it’s as if the world has stopped.

“Yes,” she hears herself say as if through a fog, then looks up and focuses on his face. And she pulls him close and kisses him.

“Yes,” she whispers again, out of breath. His hands tremble as he takes the pendant from her, and it takes him a minute to put it around her neck and fasten the tiny clasp. She sees the glint on his cheeks, touches him gently. “I’m right here,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels. “And will you marry me, Everett?”

He bites his lip and nods, and she pushes him gently down onto the blankets, kissing him, kissing the pendant, kissing his tears away.

“Yes,” he says, as he’s able to speak again. “I will marry you.”

She smiles impishly. “Good. Now fuck me, Everett. You’ve earned it.”

He pulls her down on himself and she straddles his hips, then shuffles backwards and lifts herself up to line up his cock, then sinks down onto him with a short cry.

“I’ll never get used to how big you are,” she gasps. “Like this, oh fuck, it goes so fast…”

He spreads his knees and raises them a little to seat her more securely and she bends forward to brace herself.

“I love your cock spearing me like that,” she says. “Damn, you feel so good…”

She kisses him, wet, sloppy, and he reaches for her hips, keeping her steady as she gently begins to ride him, rubbing her clit against him, relishing the gentle friction his smooth groin provides.

He looks up at her, biting his lip, then panting again, rolling his hips against hers. She rounds her back, grinds down on him, wanting to drive him deeper into herself.

“I want you on top of me,” she gasps. “I want you to fuck me for real, want to see your hips dance on mine.”

She lies down on him and he rolls them over, clasping her hands and pressing them down on the blanket on either side of her head.

“Fuck me hard, Everett,” she groans. “I’m going to be your wife, and I want you to fuck me so I’ll believe it.”

She lifts her legs and crosses her ankles in the small of his back, opening herself up to his deep, forceful penetration.

“Dance with me,” she says, and he smiles down at her and rolls his hips against her.

She can’t get enough of watching him like that, the smooth rocking, while he’s deep inside her, not quite thrusting yet, just moving with her, sending her into shivering moans of desire. She sees him move with her, and she feels like waves, like butterflies emerging from their cocoon, wings unfolding more with every breath, she feels like tall grass moving in the breeze, like water, swirling around her and caressing her. “It’s beautiful,” she thinks, and the thought surprises her. She’s never thought of sex as beautiful before. Hot, exciting, downright dirty, and in the past also _bad_ more often than not; fun, exhilarating, moving, yes. But never beautiful. This, she decides, this is beautiful.

“Tamara?”

She focuses on him, his face mildly concerned.

“Are you okay?”

She takes a deep shuddering breath and nods.

“I think I had an out of body experience just now,” she sighs, noticing he’s stopped moving. “Fuck me, Everett. Make me be here with you. Show me that this is real.”

He kisses her gently, then pushes himself up, locking his elbows and rolling his hips against her again.

“Yes, like that,” she moans, pulling up her knees, and he reaches back and hooks her legs over his arms, spreading her wide open. She’s briefly amused at seeing her feet stick out like this, but just then he pushes back a little and gives a quick, hard thrust, braced on his knees.

She tumbles over the edge, feels her muscles clamp onto his cock, quite painfully so, and the exquisite sting triggers another contraction, and another.

“Come for me, Tamara,” she hears him growl, feels another hard thrust, and she cries out at the confusing and fantastic mix of pleasure and pain.

She watches him, in between blinding flashes of agony and bliss, watches him bite his lip in concentration, hanging his head, watches him watching his cock move in and out of her. And then he comes with a shout, bracing himself on her hips, slamming into her in rapid deep thrusts as he holds her in place, making her take his hard fucking.

She’s breathless at his efforts above her, her heart breaks as she sees his face distorted in a rictus of near-pain, pleasure so deep there is no comparison.

He slows down, gasping, fighting for breath, and she loves him so much she can’t bear it. She reaches for his hands, his strong bruising grip on her hips, then runs her fingers up his trembling arms. He swallows hard, then looks at her.

“I love you,” she blurts out, and his features crease into a smile as he releases his vise-like grip on her. He sinks down onto her, burying his face against her neck, sobbing with relief, still moving, rocking gently against her with the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. She runs her hands through his curly hair, then wraps her arms around him, holding him still, relishing his weight pressing down on her. She strokes the sweat-slick skin on his back, hooking her ankles together again.

He moves his head, kisses her neck, her face, her hair, keeping still, the way she likes it, and she loves him all the more for it.

She holds him, wrapped around him, for a long time, then slowly feels him slipping from her body, feels herself losing her grip on him. She moans at the growing emptiness inside of her and reaches up to clasp the pendant in her fist.

He pushes back carefully, then picks her up and moves her between his legs, wrapping his arms around her in response to her earlier embrace.

“I was worried about you there, for a minute,” he says quietly. “You sure you’re okay?”

She nods. “Yes, I’m fine. It was the oddest thing – like I fell into a different universe, with beautiful images… But I always knew it was you, it just all looked different. Beautiful. You’re beautiful when you make love to me. I just suddenly realized that.”

“You weren’t bored, or anything?”

She laughs. “Oh no. It was – up a step. I don’t know how to describe it. Like you’re under water, and you pop up and suddenly you see a different world. But you’re there, you’re in both, and everything corresponds… Am I making any sense at all?”

He kisses her hair. “Yes, you do. We really have no idea what other levels of consciousness there are. You looked happy. Just – transparent, somehow. Ethereal.”

“That’s exactly what it felt like. Touching eternity.”

He hugs her close, puts his chin on her shoulder.

She smiles. “I can’t believe it… we finally have totally vanilla sex, and you propose to me.”

“That was vanilla in your book?”

She kisses him. “I like vanilla, too.”

“So many flavors to try out.”

She holds up the pendant and kisses it.

“Thank you, Everett. It’s gorgeous. I will always wear it.”

“It has our names engraved on the back,” he smiles. “And look…”

He reaches out for a small box and opens it. “I have the same one.”

She holds out her hand and he puts it in her palm, turning it over so she can see the inscriptions.

“I love it. What a great idea. Here, let me put it on you.”

She fumbles for a bit, trying to close the tiny clasp, but finally she manages.

“Perfect,” she says, then her face gets serious.

“What’s wrong?”

“Does this mean we’ll have to have another party?”

He laughs. “No. Not if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anything, really, except maybe go see Rush at some point with a witness for the Dearly Beloved business. I’m perfectly content leaving it at that. In fact, we can even perform our own ceremony, we don’t even need Rush. As long as we get the license and sign it.”

“Then let’s do it. Soon. We can always have a party later. A public ceremony.”

“I like that. It’s really nobody’s business but our own, is it? And this town thinks of us as married already anyway.”

“We don’t need blood tests here, do we?”

“No, not in Colorado.”

“I’d kind of like to get Rush to do the vows. What about Dr. Brightman as a witness?”

He nods. “Of course, she’d be perfect. Let’s ask her and elope. Wow, what a day. I didn’t really plan this. But I wanted you to know, going back to school, that I’m with you all the way.”

She kisses him. “And I always knew that, but it’s important that you know it for yourself, too.”

“Exactly. It goes both ways.”

“We’ve never really talked about it, but maybe this is a good time to see how you feel about kids.”

He sighs deeply.

“I’m not sure what to think, to tell you the truth. You’re going back to school, and then it’s your residency, and after that you want to go on and specialize in brain trauma… I don’t want you to do all that and feel you have to have kids as well. Don’t get me wrong – if I could get pregnant I’d offer right away, but I don’t think it’s entirely fair to you.”

She nods. “It will be a busy eight years. There’s not much of a chance we could be proper parents, at least not the way I’d want to. But I’ll be in my thirties by the time I get done, and there’s still plenty of time for a couple of babies, if we still want to have a bigger family then. You’ll be in your early fifties. It’ll be fine if we wait.”

“Then that’s the plan,” he smiles. “We’ll have each other. That’s more than I ever expected of life already.”

“I love you, Everett.”

“And I love you, Tamara.” He nuzzles her ear and she giggles.

“I’m thirsty. How about some good old cranberry juice?”

“Sounds great.”

She jumps up and thwarts his efforts to get the drinks, hurries into the kitchen and returns with the bottle and two glasses. He pours and she smiles at him.

“To us, as usual. Because we totally rock.”

“Because we win at life.”

“Exactly.”

oOo

Dr. Brightman is delighted when Tamara calls her and asks her to be a witness.

“Of course,” she exclaims. “I am so honored. I’ll take the time off. Just tell me when.”

Tamara looks at Everett. “Tomorrow,” he says.

She nods. “How’s tomorrow?”

“You’re eloping? That’s fantastic. Yes, I’ll be there.”

They discuss details and Everett sneaks his arms around her and holds her from behind as she chats with their mutual friend.

oOo

The ceremony is as simple and low key as she can imagine, and it’s all over in a few minutes. Rush actually smiles, and his congratulations are genuine and honest, without the usual sarcasm she tends to feel from him.

They wave as Dr. Brightman gets back into her car and drives off.

Everett holds up a key.

“What’s that?”

“Come. You’ll see.”

They walk arm in arm down the sidewalks of the town, and she finds she can’t even talk, she’s quite overwhelmed, and she’s relieved that they’re alone. She can’t imagine having to be nice to other people and party in public right now.

He stops at the community hall and unlocks the side door.

Tamara smiles, as he ushers her in. “This is where it all started, where I first saw you. A year ago.”

“Where we first made love, half an hour later.”

She laughs at that.

They stand there, hand in hand, looking at the space. The hall is empty, quiet, the early Spring sunlight streaming through the windows. She thinks back on the events of the day, then turns to him.

“I knew it, even then,” she says. “I saw you, and I knew you were the one.”

“I had seen you in my dreams,” he nods. “And I knew it was you.”

She squeezes his fingers.

“Wanna go somewhere more private?” She points at the caterer’s kitchen door, smiling.

He nods and kisses her tenderly.

“Welcome to Cloverdale.”

 

oOo

 

**Thanks for reading! A comment or feedback would be much appreciated.**

 

 **Companion Artwork information can be found here** : <http://shena8.livejournal.com/74553.html>

 

 

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